


To Wake a Captive Dreamer

by sophie_448



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, Explicit Sexual Content, Fairy Tale Retellings, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Promise, Rape Recovery, Sleeping Beauty Retelling, i just want everybody to be forewarned, i swear this fic is not as dark as these tags make it sound, it wouldn't be a fairy tale otherwise, jensen does not have a good relationship with his mental illness, or the mental health profession, semi-graphic description of a past rape, victim was 15 at the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-25
Updated: 2008-07-25
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophie_448/pseuds/sophie_448
Summary: Once upon a time (ten years ago to be precise) something terrible happened to Jensen. He’s been dealing with it, or failing to deal with it, ever since. His best friend, Chris, takes care of him and Steve takes care of Chris. They’re one precariously balanced little family who also happen to play in a band together. When Jared becomes their new bassist, everything changes.An unorthodox retelling of Sleeping Beauty.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [KateMonster](http://archiveofourown.org/users/katemonster) and [hunterwithcause](http://hunterwithcause.livejournal.com/).
> 
> Originally written for the 2008 [spn_j2_bigbang](https://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com/). 
> 
> So I want to preface this fic with a disclaimer of sorts. At the time of this posting (March 2018) I wrote this ten (10) years ago. Needless to say, I have grown and changed a lot in that time, and have come to think differently about some things represented in this story. I use a heightened fairy tale metaphor to depict rape recovery and PTSD, and this was a purposeful choice on my part. I would ... not choose to address these topics in the same way today. I have hesitated to import this story because I felt uncomfortable about that. (Also because I'm lazy and this is only the second of my older fics I've imported at all, but that's a separate issue.) However, after thinking it over for a long time I came to the conclusion that just because it's not a choice I would make today doesn't necessarily make it a wrong choice. And ultimately I'm still proud of the work that I put into this fic. To this day I don't think I have ever more meticulously planned and edited any story. 
> 
> I also think it's somewhat of a disservice to fandom as a whole when older stories are deleted or lost. They're a big part of our history, and it's obviously a big part of AO3's mission to preserve that history. So I figured if I believe it about other people's work, I should apply it to my own as well. And I swear I will eventually get the rest of my old stories over here.

_Once upon a time there lived a king and queen. They reigned over a prosperous kingdom and were wealthy and happy. They lacked only one thing to make their happiness complete, and that was a child. Before many years had passed, their wish came true, and the queen gave birth to a son. All the kingdom rejoiced at the birth of the young prince, lavishing rich gifts on him, except for one man. An evil wizard lived in the kingdom and he was filled with a jealous rage, for he had been in love with the king many years ago. He hated the queen and the newborn prince for gaining the king’s love when he could not, but he hated the king even more for slighting him._

_On the very day of the prince’s birth, the evil wizard came to the queen, sneaking past the armed guards of the palace. He laid a curse upon the child, swearing that the prince would pay for his father’s misdeeds. The king discovered the wizard’s presence and had him banished immediately, but the damage was done. The queen wept bitterly for the fate of her child and the king decided that they should flee to a faraway kingdom. They vanished without a trace, hoping that if the wizard could not find them, his curse might never be fulfilled._

_At first they were afraid every day, but as time went on and it seemed that the wizard had not followed them, they became content. They lived happily in exile for many years and the young prince grew up strong, handsome, and wise, with eyes as green as leaves in spring and hair as golden as honey and flax. The king and queen could almost believe that the curse and their previous life had been nothing but a bad dream. They were certain that the wizard could never find them._

_All this time, though, the wizard had been working strong, dark magic to find the young prince. Finally, on the prince’s fifteenth birthday, his long search was rewarded. He went immediately to the place where the prince was. He easily separated the prince from the group of young noblemen with whom he was celebrating, pulling him into a dark passageway._

_The wizard meant to kill the prince, but when he looked upon him he was overcome with lust. He resembled the king greatly. With a howl of rage and despair, the wizard forced the prince to lie with him. The prince was untouched and he begged the wizard to show mercy, but the wizard refused to relent. He finally left the prince broken and despairing on the ground._

_When the king and queen learned what had happened, they were horrified. They sent guards into every part of the kingdom and the wizard was quickly found. His actions were so evil that his magic had deserted him. He no longer had the power to flee and he was thrown into the deepest dungeon where he remained to the miserable end of his days._

_The damage to the prince, however, could not be undone. The curse had been fulfilled and he became a shadow of his former self. Eventually he learned to smile and laugh again, but they were merely echoes. Thorns grew up around his heart so that no one could reach him and, safe behind his impenetrable wall of brambles, the prince was asleep._

 


	2. Part 1

Jensen feels his cock sliding into the guy’s ass vaguely, as though slightly removed from himself.  _What was his name again?_  he wonders idly as he grips slim hips hard enough to bruise, forcing the guy to scrabble for purchase on the wall of the back room of the bar. He thrusts in harder, wanting to feel something, but the guy is pushing back against him, panting and moaning and jerking his cock frantically, so he knows he isn’t being too rough.  _Feel something_ , he thinks bitterly, as if he doesn’t know by now that nothing is going to cut through the numbness.  
  
Still, there’s friction and a tight ass around his dick and Jensen comes after a few more thrusts. He pulls out quickly, tying off the condom and throwing it away. He has his pants up and his belt buckled before his partner has a chance to do more than sag boneless against the wall.  
  
“Well, that was great. Thanks,” he says perfunctorily, taking a step backwards. The guy’s all fucked out, so probably his brain isn’t getting the messages Jensen is sending quite fast enough. He reaches out a hand and pulls Jensen towards him, moving in for a kiss. Jensen places a hand on his chest and pushes slightly, not unkind, but firmly removing the guy from his space.   
  
He’s at the door, hand on the knob when the guy says, “Can I get your number?”   
  
_Can’t take a hint,_  Jensen thinks and rolls his eyes slightly. He gives the guy his signature smirk and simply says, “No.” Then he’s out the door and back into the smoke and noise and crowd of the main room.   
  
He spots Chris over by the bar and wades through the mass of people to his side. “Hey, I’m gonna call it a night. See you at home, okay?”   
  
Chris looks over in the direction Jensen came from and his eyes go flat with comprehension. Jensen follows his gaze and sees tonight’s conquest just stumbling out of the back room looking completely debauched. “Jen—“ Chris starts.   
  
“Bye, Chris,” Jensen cuts him off and is on his way before his best friend can say anything more. He tosses a devil-may-care grin over his shoulder and pretends he doesn’t see the worry on Chris’ face.   
  


~*~

  
  
Not long after Chris watches Jensen practically sprint out the door, Steve sidles up and grabs the recently vacated stool next to him at the bar.   
  
“Jen leave already?” he asks.   
  
Chris nods. “Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,” he says, laughing humorlessly and nodding towards the other side of the room where Jensen’s latest fuck buddy is still leaning dazedly against the doorframe. Steve’s lips thin and the worry in his eyes mirrors Chris’.   
  
Chris sighs heavily and Steve rubs his shoulder comfortingly, but they let the subject drop. After all, what is there to say? Jensen does this every weekend, sometimes more than once. Chris knows Jensen is careful; always uses a condom and gets tested regularly just to be sure, but that doesn’t really make it better.   
  
On the other hand, this has been a pretty solid pattern for about seven years now and Chris really doesn’t like to dwell on the time before that. As bad as the casual, anonymous sex is, that was infinitely worse.   
  
Chris takes a long pull of his beer and tries to put Jensen out of his mind. His best friend is home and safe for now and there’s a hot blond next to him who really deserves some love and attention.   
  


~*~

  
  
Jensen’s alarm goes off and he groans and rolls over. He hates Monday mornings and he’s slightly hung-over today. He feels the pounding in his head distantly, though. Making a mental note to have a beer or two fewer on Sunday nights, he drags himself out of bed and into the shower.   
  
Force of habit carries him through his morning routine and sees him out the door, coffee in hand, just as he hears Chris’ alarm go off in the other bedroom and Chris’ very colorful insults of the alarm clock’s parentage. One corner of his mouth twitches upward a fraction. Chris is one of the best things in his life. Not that there’s a lot of competition, but he’s pretty sure that even if there were, Chris would still top the list. Jensen doesn’t know what he’d do without him.   
  
Jensen would be lost without his routine. He tries to schedule each moment of his day because he really doesn’t know what to do with downtime. Plus there’s the constant fear that if he stops moving for too long, he won’t start again. The fear doesn’t occupy the front of his consciousness. It doesn’t distract him. Rather, it’s like white noise in the back of his mind. Its constant presence makes him forget it’s there most of the time. But if he has time to dwell on things, it might get a lot louder.   
  
So Jensen has his routine and his schedule. Monday through Friday he goes to work, of course. He’s a mid-level associate with a very respectable local marketing firm. He started as an assistant there straight out of college three years ago. At school, he majored in marketing with a minor in music. He only got the minor because Chris poked and prodded until capitulation was easier than resisting anymore, refusing to let Jensen push his lifelong love of music aside.   
  
Jensen vaguely remembers thinking at thirteen or fourteen that he might double major in English and Music, but that Jensen was an entirely different person. This Jensen likes the concrete nature of marketing; taking things that seem abstract and unquantifiable and reducing them to numbers and charts and focus groups. It’s safe.   
  
Music and literature are shifting and nebulous, full of emotions that Jensen only dimly remembers ever feeling. Of course, Chris won’t let him close himself off from music. Just like he pushed Jensen to get the music minor, he dragged him, practically kicking and screaming, into his band. Of course he pretended Jensen was doing him a favor, but Jensen isn’t stupid. Chris has been working tirelessly for ten years to keep Jensen from entirely shutting down emotionally and music is a big part of that. Jensen is as grateful as he can be under the circumstances, but he knows he doesn’t show it. He can’t. It’s like there’s a wall between him and the rest of the world and the real Jensen, the one inside his head, can’t bridge the gap.   
  
His phone rings around two o’clock.   
  
“Jensen Ackles,” he answers.   
  
“Hey, Jen,” Chris says, a note of excitement in his voice, “Just wanted to make sure you remembered about band practice tonight.”   
  
Jensen raises his eyebrows even though Chris can’t see. He’s a creature of habit. He never forgets anything on his schedule. “Yeah, I remember.”   
  
“Good, good.” Chris pauses for a just long enough to make Jensen nervous.   
  
“Chris?”   
  
“Yeah. So, Jen, um—I might have found us a bass player. He’s gonna try out tonight, okay?”   
  
Now Chris’ hesitation makes sense. He knows Jensen hates any last minute alterations to his schedule. This is a good thing, though. The band hasn’t been able to book any major gigs since their last bass player, Chad, quit a couple of months ago and moved to New York.   
  
“That’s great, Chris,” he says evenly.   
  
“Really?”  
  
“Of course. If he’s any good maybe we can get some real gigs soon.”   
  
Chris chuckles lightly. “Yeah. Well, here’s hoping.”   
  
Jensen is glad that he can make his friend happy for once. “All right. See you tonight, Chris.”   
  
“Later, Jen.”   
  


~*~

  
  
Jared is trapped in his living room. He’s standing on a tiny island of clear floor, surrounded on all sides by cardboard boxes stacked about chest-high. He isn’t sure how this happened. He had an escape route a minute ago. He was just trying to find the box with his DVDs. He moved a few things and now he’s trapped.   
  
He looks out on the sea of boxes and bags and scattered furniture, not one piece of which is anywhere close to where it should be, with a growing sense of dread. They have to be breeding. Packing boxes are an as-yet-undiscovered form of life because there is no way he actually has this much crap. It couldn’t possibly all have fit into his car and Jeff’s truck.   
  
Jared quickly steers his mind away from thoughts of Jeff as he remembers the look on his brother’s face when he dropped him off in Richardson. He doesn’t know when he’ll see Jeff again, or Megan, but it doesn’t help to dwell. He returns his focus to the task at hand—getting free. He gingerly shifts a few boxes around until he has a path to the door. From there he can get to the bedroom through an exciting obstacle course around the room. However, access to the kitchenette at the side of the main room might require Olympic level pole vaulting, which could be why Jared’s been eating take-out for the past two days.   
  
His eyes light on the long, rectangular case propped near the door. It’s dull, black plastic enlivened by stickers for various bands. He opens the case to reveal his bass guitar. Jared feels better just looking at it. The shimmering dark teal body and the four sturdy strings running across it ground him. It makes him feel a little more at home in strange place.   
  
Jared pulls out the instrument and his tuner. He wants to be ready for tonight. He can’t believe his luck at finding a band looking for a bass player before he’s even unpacked. He was just checking out the online classifieds as an excellent mode of procrastination from sorting through the contents of boxes and came across the listing from this band, Collin Street Secret. He sent them an email right away and got a response in less than an hour asking him to come to their practice the next day and try out.   
  
He tried and failed to keep from beaming his thousand-watt grin at his empty apartment, feeling like a big dork. Then he figured no one was around to mock him for it and gave up. He tried to do a happy dance and nearly killed himself falling over boxes.   
  
But that’s kind of par for the course. Jared’s pretty hyper and most of the time he can’t concentrate on one thing for too long before he’s on to the next new and shiny. The casual observer might wonder how he’d managed to stick with one instrument for so long and with such dedication. But even the most frenetic personality needs a center. When Jared plays his bass, all the crazy, scattered thoughts spinning in his head just settle down and get quiet for a while. The smooth, low vibrations against his fingers seem to seep into his soul and give him some peace.   
  
Not to mention he really likes to rock out with a band. He has a good feeling about the tryout. Sandy, his best friend from college, would say it’s just his overly optimistic nature playing tricks on him, but Jared hopes this will be one of those times when his feelings turn out to be entirely accurate. He smiles wistfully thinking of Sandy. She’s just one more person he’s had to leave behind to start this new life. He squares his shoulders and tells himself firmly that it’s worth it.   
  
Glancing at his watch, Jared realizes he’d better hurry and get a shower if he wants to have time to eat before his audition. He puts his bass away and closes the latches on the case before standing cautiously and gearing himself up for the harrowing trip to the bedroom.   
  


~*~

  
  
Jared’s cussing out Mapquest. He may even have made up some new words to describe his loathing of it. And really, he should have known better. He vows quite solemnly that he will never cheat on Google Maps again if he can just get where he’s going.   
  
Apparently the Google gods are listening because he manages to make it to the right address with a couple of minutes to spare. And honestly, Richardson is tiny. He’s not sure how he even managed to get lost in the first place. He takes a couple of deep breaths and cuts the ignition.   
  
The house is a fairly small one-storey that’s showing its age a bit around the edges, but is reasonably nice and well cared for. The email had said to come around to the basement entrance at the back of the house. He gets out of the car and grabs his bass case from the back seat.   
  
He’s fairly close to the house before he can hear the rumbling of the drumming.  _Good sound proofing_ , he thinks. He descends the narrow flight of concrete stairs and knocks at the door. He’s not really surprised when no one answers. It’s hard to hear anything over drums, he knows. Hoping it doesn’t come across as presumptuous, he pushes the door open and ducks just slightly to enter.   
  
He’s right about the soundproofing. The second Jared opens the door he’s nearly bowled over by the force of the percussion. Thanks to the noise level, he has a moment to observe his surroundings before the occupants of the room notice his presence. There’s a beat up couch against the wall to his left. A muscular guy with chin-length dark brown hair sits on it. His t-shirt is reasonably tight and indicates a nicely sculpted torso. It says “Don’t Mess With Texas.” His jeans are ripped at the knees and a cowboy hat sits on the arm of the couch beside him.   
  
His wardrobe says “good ‘ole boy,” but his actions say something a bit different. There’s another guy sitting on the floor beside him. He’s dressed in jeans and a plain gray t-shirt and he’s leaning up against the first guy, his head resting on his knee. The cowboy is running his fingers affectionately through his blond hair. They both look deeply relaxed, like they’re listening to Mozart instead of an energetic drum solo.   
  
Jared’s eyes are drawn to the source of the wall of sound and suddenly he’s rooted to the spot and he can’t stop staring. The drummer has dirty blond hair, shorter than the other two band members and currently spiked with sweat from his exertions. He’s dressed in jeans and a wife-beater that’s clinging to his sticky skin. He’s well built, with muscles that are lean rather than bulky. Jared’s eyes catch on his glistening biceps and forearms that flex as he pounds out a frantic rhythm.   
  
This guy is gorgeous all over, but it’s his eyes that have Jared mesmerized. They’re an impossibly clear green and as he plays they shine with an intensity that he’s never seen. He’s caught off-guard by the wave of desire that hits him straight in the gut.  _Want. Want now_.   
  
He’s still trying to wrestle his baser instinct back under control when he’s surprised by a tap on his shoulder. He’d been so caught up in staring at the drummer he hadn’t even realized the other guys had finally noticed him and gotten up. It’s the cowboy who’s trying to get his attention. He stands a good six inches shorter than Jared, but unlike most people, he doesn’t look at all intimidated by the height difference.   
  
He opens his mouth and tries to say something, but the words are lost in the noise. Jared shakes his head and taps his ear to indicate he can’t hear. The brunet nods and jogs over to the drummer, tapping him on the shoulder. He barely misses losing an eye to a flying drumstick as the noise comes to an abrupt halt.   
  
“Jesus, Chris! You scared the hell out of me!”   
  
Chris, for this must be the Chris Kane he’s been emailing with, angles his head in Jared’s direction. The drummer’s eyes widen and then Jared watches the strangest thing happen. It’s like a wall goes down behind those green eyes, hiding the intense look that had him so fascinated. Then he seems to just close up. The beautiful, feral creature Jared had witnessed gets tucked away behind a mask of politeness as the guy stands and comes towards him, trailing behind Chris.   
  
“Hey, I’m Chris Kane. You must be Jared.” Chris claps Jared’s hand in a hearty handshake.   
  
Jared nods. “Yeah, it’s great to meet you.”   
  
Chris nods first to his right. “This here’s Steve,” he says, indicated the blond whose hair he’d been stroking.   
  
“Steve Carlson,” he introduces himself and Jared collects another hearty handshake.   
  
Chris then indicates the drummer. “And this is Jensen Ackles.”   
  
“Nice to meet you, Jensen,” Jared says with perhaps more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary, but he can’t quite contain his fascination.   
  
“A pleasure,” Jensen murmurs and his handshake is nothing like the others. Firm enough to not be considered a flimsy handshake, but not one iota too hard or too familiar. Jared gets an uncanny feeling that Jensen has studied handshakes to make his exactly correct and proper, but surely that’s ridiculous.   
  
Then Chris is off on a spiel about the band and Jared yanks his attention back. “So I do guitar and lead vocals. Steve’s lead guitar and backup vocals. I guess it goes without saying that Jensen’s on drums.” He tosses a smirk in Jensen’s direction.   
  
Jared’s delighted when Jensen sticks his tongue out at Chris, his eyes sparkling with mischief for a split second before he slips back behind his guarded expression.   
  
“Anyway, Jared, you can set up here,” Chris continues, indicating a spot slightly less covered in tangled wires than the surrounding area. Jared pulls out his bass and tuner, moving into the indicated spot. His instrument hasn’t managed to get too badly out of tune since an hour ago, so he makes some slight adjustments and is ready to go. He fishes around in the mess of cables on the ground for a moment until he finds a free cord into the amp.   
  
He straightens up and slides the strap around his shoulder. Chris and Steve have finished setting up too and Chris thrusts a stack of papers at him. “Here. I printed out chord sheets for a few of our old standbys.” He waves a hand at a music stand perched precariously among the wires. “You can use that. You ready to have at it?” There’s a friendly challenge in his voice.   
  
“Absolutely,” Jared says, grinning widely.   
  
They run a brief sound check and then Chris counts down the first song. It’s a rollicking country-rock number and Jared takes a couple of measures to pick up the tempo. Then he jumps in with both feet. The chord progression itself is fairly simple and he has it memorized after a couple of verses. Then he’s able to really sink in and enjoy playing and observing the others. Jensen’s setting a blazing rhythm, his arms flying. Steve’s fingers are moving too fast to follow across the strings of his guitar. Chris is strumming for all he’s worth and they’re laying down an amazing vocal harmony on top of it all.   
  
Jared’s grin spreads from ear to ear. It’s been too long since he’s been able to play like this. Actually, he’s not sure he’s ever played quite like this. These guys are amazing. But then, so is he. He starts listening for where he might be able to toss in a little something other than the standard bass line. And there it is. There’s this little breath between the verse and the chorus. The next time it comes around he tosses in a little turn. Chris looks over and gives him an appreciative nod and Jared grins back, not missing a note.   
  
They play for a couple of hours and things continue to go well. At least, Jared thinks so, and he’s pretty sure those are positive signals he’s getting from Chris and Steve. Jensen, well, Jared is boggled by Jensen. Whenever they’re playing, that intense look comes back into his eyes and he pounds the drums like a man possessed. The second the last chord sounds he swipes a hand across his forehead and he’s all prim and proper again. Clearly there’s something fairly major going on with Jensen that Jared is not privy to. And hey, they’ve barely met, it’s okay. But by the time Chris calls a halt on account of the neighbors, Jared’s determined that he’s going to find out what’s hiding behind Jensen’s enigmatic exterior.   
  
As Jared’s packing up Chris says, “Well, Jared, you’re a damn good bassist. So the three of us will have a little sit down and give you call in the next day or so, all right?”   
  
Jared grins and clasps Chris’ hand once more. “Sounds great,” he says, hoping he doesn’t seem too eager. It’s never good to come across as needy. He’s pretty sure he’s in, though. He tries to remember what his momma told him about not counting his chickens before they’re hatched, but he’s pretty sure he can hear chirping. And then he has to take a moment trying not to wince in pain at the memory of his mother. He banishes it quickly to the back of his mind and hefts his case. “I’ll look forward to it,” he says, waving a general farewell around the room before exiting and taking the basement stairs two at a time on his way up.   
  


~*~

  
  
Jensen watches Jared go with a mixture of relief and disappointment. He hasn’t been this off balance in years. He can’t believe the giant with floppy hair and the biggest grin he’s ever seen has thrown off his equilibrium so thoroughly in such a short time. Jared looked at him with those hazel cat eyes and Jensen suddenly felt defenseless, like Jared could see straight through all his carefully constructed armor right into his broken soul. It was terrifying.   
  
What’s even scarier was that some part of Jensen doesn’t mind. Jared is freaking six four and has the build to go with it. He should be deeply intimidating, but he has such a harmless, almost puppy-like demeanor that it somehow counteracts his physical size. Like maybe he’s someone that can be trusted. Someone safe.   
  
Jensen shakes his head to clear it. Thinking like that is dangerous. He can’t let people in. He makes a decision then and there. He’s going to fuck Jared. Fuck him until his brains shoot straight out through his dick and prove he’s just like everybody else. Then Jensen will be safe again. Won’t get this squirmy feeling like he doesn’t fit in his skin anymore. He nods decisively, settling on his plan.   
  
“Jen! Hey, Jen, you still with us?” Chris waves a hand in front of his face.  
  
Jensen bats it away, scowling half-heartedly. “Yeah, what?”   
  
“Just discussing the maybe, hopefully newest member of the band. No big deal,” Chris teases, rolling his eyes.   
  
Jensen flushes, realizing how far he’d zoned out. “Right, sorry.”   
  
“So, what’d you think? He’s great, right?”   
  
There’s no denying Jared is a stellar bassist. They should definitely grab him before someone else does. Then it hits him. Jared’s almost certainly going to be joining the band. Generally he doesn’t ever see his casual fucks again once he’s done with them, but he’d have to see Jared at least twice a week. He mentally curses a blue streak. But if he has to see Jared on a regular basis and he doesn’t fuck him, it’s going to be completely unbearable.   
  
No, he definitely needs to stick to the plan. Doesn’t mean they can’t play together afterward. Might be a little awkward, but Jensen figures Jared’s a big boy. If he can’t take the brush off gracefully then he’s probably not someone they want to be associating with anyway. All right, so, proceeding with the plan then.   
  
He realizes Chris is angling a concerned look at him and he’s zoned out again. “Yeah, absolutely, he’s fantastic. Let’s call him!”   
  
Chris chokes out a laugh. “All right there, Sparky. Glad you agree, but we don’t want to look desperate, right? I’ll give him a call tomorrow and let him know.”   
  
Steve and Chris pack up their guitars and they all pile out of the basement and head around to the front of the house. Steve tosses his case into the back of his midsize SUV. He has his hand on the driver’s side door handle when Chris stops him, placing his hand over top and crowding into Steve’s space. “You sure you can’t stay tonight?” he asks, running his other hand through Steve’s hair.   
  
Steve nods. “Yeah, I’ve got to be at work really early.” Steve owns this little place in town. It’s half coffee shop, half bookstore. Most times he gets high school kids, desperate for a little extra cash, to do the ass o’clock opening shifts, but he is the boss, so sometimes he can’t get around it.   
  
Chris nods sympathetically. “Okay, get some sleep, sugar,” he drawls, then leans in and kisses his boyfriend.   
  
Jensen rolls his eyes and heads on into the house. Those two are like newlyweds even though they’ve been together for nearly four years. Goodbyes will take twenty minutes at least. He feels a brief twinge of sadness, knowing he’ll never have what they have, but he shoves it away. His way is safer. As long as he doesn’t let anyone in, no one can hurt him.   
  


~*~

  
  
Jared pulls out his cell phone on the drive home and hits the speed dial for Sandy.   
  
She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, sweetie! What’s up?”   
  
“Hey, nothing much. I just finished my tryout with that band I was telling you about.”   
  
“Oh yeah? How did it go? Did they fall at your feet and beg you to join immediately?”   
  
Jared laughs. “Not quite, but it went really well, I think. And they seem like really cool guys. Chris—Chris Kane, the lead singer, said he’d call me probably tomorrow, so I should know soon.”   
  
“Well that’s great! They’d be idiots not to snap you up, with your talent.”   
  
“Aww, you’re just saying that ‘cause you have to. Best friend rules and all.”   
  
“Nah, I’d say it even if I wasn’t contractually obligated. You really are, you know.”   
  
“Thanks.”   
  
“Hey, Jay?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“How’s everything else? You settling in okay?”   
  
He sighs softly. “Yeah, it’s all right. I start work at the fabulous  _Richardson Gazette_  next week and I hope I can get everything unpacked before then. My apartment is seriously tiny.”   
  
“Well, that’s the price of independence,” she says, a smile back in her voice, “You have to pay your dues somewhere. And anyway, soon you’re going to be a famous bassist and you won’t have to slave away working nine to five like the rest of us.”   
  
“Here’s hoping,” he answers.   
  
“All right, sweetie, I’ve gotta run. You take care of yourself, all right?”   
  
“Don’t I always?”   
  
“Yeah. And Jared?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“I miss you.”   
  
He bites his lip hard for a second, fighting a traitorous tightening in his throat. After a moment he thinks his voice is back under control. “Yeah, I miss you too.”   
  


~*~

  
  
Jensen is having trouble concentrating at work. This is deeply disturbing because Jensen never has trouble concentrating at work. He loves work because he can just turn off all extraneous parts of his brain and dive into the cold comfort of numbers and graphs for eight hours. But today he just can’t seem to focus. He’s been staring at the same page of survey data for the last half hour. His mind keeps wandering, memories of hazel eyes, floppy brown hair, and a blindingly white grin flitting in front of his eyes.   
  
Mumbling a curse, he shoves his chair back from his desk and gets up. He heads to the break room, thinking some coffee might clear his head. The room is as corporately sterile as the rest of the office. The only decorations are the legally required posters about Worker’s Compensation and Minimum Wage.   
  
He opens the cupboard over the small dishwasher and grabs a mug at random from the motley selection contained therein. He turns on his heel, heading for the coffee maker on the opposite side of the room. Unfortunately he didn’t notice someone else had come into the break room. He runs smack into a tiny blonde woman and the empty mug goes flying from his hand, shattering on the tile floor. Instantly he’s mumbling apologies, asking if she’s all right, and sinking to his knees to attempt to collect the shards of coffee cup.   
  
“Hey, hey, stop that! You’re going to cut yourself!” She tugs at his sleeve. “Come on, I’m fine. No blood, no foul, right? Let me just grab the broom.”   
  
Jensen stands somewhat sheepishly, dusting off the knees of his slacks. “You’re sure you’re okay?”   
  
“Totally fine,” she assures him, grinning as she sweeps up the jagged pieces of porcelain, “I’m Allison, by the way. I’m new.”   
  
Which would explain why he didn’t recognize her. Sure, he didn’t spend a lot of time socializing with his coworkers, but he at least knew them all by face and name. He extends his hand to offer his perfectly modulated handshake. “Jensen.”   
  
Her eyebrows go up. “Oh, so you’re Jensen.”   
  
He frowns, confused. “Yes?”   
  
She grins again. “They told me about you is all.”   
  
“Told you what?”   
  
“Oh, they just said you were kind of,” she pauses and he knows she’s trying to come up with a polite way of phrasing whatever she’s been told, “prickly.”   
  
“Prickly?” he repeats.   
  
She nods. “Yeah, but I don’t put much stock in office gossip. You seem pretty nice to me.”   
  
He smiles wistfully, appreciating the effort, but knowing it won’t last long. He decides to save her the trouble. “They’re probably right,” he says. “I’m just not much for office socializing.”   
  
“Hmm. Well that’s fair, I guess.” She purses her lips for a moment. “Think you’d be up for making an exception? It’s just that I’m new in town and, prickly or not, you’re the nicest person I’ve met so far.”   
  
Jensen’s kind of taken aback. It must show in his expression because Allison makes puppy-dog eyes at him.   
  
“Come on, please? Be my office buddy?”   
  
She startles a laugh from him. He really ought to shut her down. Letting people in is always dangerous, but she’s staring up at him, her lower lip protruding comically. She’s just a co-worker, after all, and a small, non-threatening, female one at that. He sighs and gives in. “Yeah, all right, but no promises I’ll actually be a good one.”   
  
She snaps out of the fake pout, grinning brightly. “Awesome! See you for lunch then?” And she’s gone, leaving Jensen staring bemusedly after her wondering what he’s gotten himself into.   
  
He heads back to his office, forgetting about his coffee entirely. He works steadily until she barrels into his office at 12:30 and drags him out to lunch. He’s surprised when he realizes he hasn’t thought about a certain, ridiculously tall bass player all morning.   
  


~*~

  
  
For the second day in a row, Jensen gets a mid-afternoon call from Chris.   
  
“Hey, buddy!” Chris sounds enthusiastic rather than apprehensive today.   
  
“Hey, Chris.”   
  
“So I called Jared and he,” Chris pauses, “Well, actually he kind of squealed like a little girl, then tried to act all cool to cover it up.” Chris sounds delighted in a kind of evil way and Jensen supposes Jared is never going to live this down.   
  
“So he’s in?”   
  
“Definitely. I told him he should come by Steve’s for drinks tonight. You up for swinging by?”   
  
“Sure, what time?”   
  
“Seven.”   
  
“Okay, see y’all then.”   
  
“Great. Bye, Jen.”   
  
“Bye.”   
  
Jensen figures tonight is as good a time as any to execute his plan. A couple of Steve’s Irish coffees and Jared won’t know what hit him. And afterwards Jensen won’t have to worry about that too-perceptive gaze anymore.   
  


~*~

  
  
The Java Script is Steve’s pride and joy. It’s half coffee shop, half bookstore and, because this is Texas, he has a liquor license. The coffee is as plain or as fancy as you want to make it. Steve caters to both the younger generation who grew up speaking Starbucks and the older crowd who “just want a cup of coffee dammit.”   
  
As for the books, he orders in a few new copies of the hottest bestsellers, but mostly operates on the book exchange principle. Used books sell for half the list price and if you bring in books to trade, you get a quarter of the list price in credit. Since the books are already in used condition, it doesn’t really matter if people flip through them while they’re having their coffee.   
  
When he first started up, straight after graduating with a joint degree, BA in English with an MBA tacked on in just an extra year, he trawled library sales across three counties to stock the shelves. He has some heavy competition from Starbucks, but Richardson is the kind of town that likes to support independent enterprise, so he’s doing pretty well. Over the past three years he’s built up a loyal customer base and he’s tremendously proud of what he’s achieved.   
  
The shop is decorated in dark wood and jewel toned furniture. The light is bright enough to read by, but it has a warm quality to it that gives a cozy “sit a spell” feel, helped along by the numerous big, fluffy chairs. He’s seated in his favorite one, looking over the paperwork for next week’s coffee order while he waits for Chris, Jensen, and Jared.   
  
Steve met Chris and Jensen by chance when they were in their last year at UT Dallas. Chris was playing at this coffee shop near campus with Jensen running sound and Steve was shamelessly scoping the place out for ideas he could adapt. As soon as he spotted Chris, though, he had something better to scope out than the floor plan.   
  
Chris spotted him too and wasted no time introducing himself after the set. Steve had never felt such an instant connection with anyone and it was entirely mutual. He’s sure they would have gone home together that night if it weren’t for Jensen. Steve gets it now, but at the time he was fantastically confused.   
  
“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he’d asked.   
  
Chris’ eyes had gone dark and hungry and Steve was sure he was going to say yes, but then he’d glanced at his timid little green-eyed friend. “Umm, we should get going actually. Jensen, my roommate, he doesn’t really like to be out after dark.”   
  
Steve stared at him incredulously. “Can’t he take care of himself?”   
  
He clearly spoke too loud because Jensen, packing up their equipment a few feet away, flinched. Chris saw it and when he turned back to Steve, his expression was hard.   
  
“Listen, Steve, nice to meet you and all, but we’ve got to get going. See you around.” His voice contained none of the warmth it had just moments before and Steve was instantly sorry even though he wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. He sat there dumbfounded as Chris helped Jensen pack up the last of their gear and head for the exit.   
  
Chris was nearly to the door, a protective arm slung around Jensen’s shoulders when Steve decided he was an idiot if he didn’t try to fix this. He jumped up and caught Chris’ arm before he made it outside.   
  
“Yeah?” Chris’ expression was far from welcoming.   
  
“Listen, man, I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I don’t know either of you and I shouldn’t have said anything about something I don’t know anything about, so. Sorry. Umm, here’s my number.” He thrust a scrap of paper at Chris who looked like he took it more out of surprise than anything else. “I’m not usually such an ass and I’d just. Really like it if you called.” He stopped and realized he didn’t have any idea what to do next. He felt a blush creeping up his neck and decided he’d better get out before he dug himself in any deeper. “Umm, okay, have a nice night. Bye!” He slid around them and out the door, leaving Chris and Jensen gaping after him like fish.   
  
Chris called the next day and blew him in a secluded corner behind the library that afternoon. And the rest was history as far as he and Chris were concerned. Jensen was another story entirely. Steve got to know him in fits and starts, with Chris running heavy interference. He didn’t make the mistake of questioning Chris taking care of Jensen again, though. He just went with it and figured it would all sort itself out in time.   
  
Shortly before graduation, he got the full story. Or as much of the full story as he’s ever likely to get. Chris tried to get Jensen to tell Steve himself, but he just couldn’t do it. He gave permission for Chris to tell him though. Chris gave him only the bare bones of the story, but that was more than enough. After that, he never questioned Chris’ protectiveness of his best friend again, even privately.   
  
Somewhere in the middle of all that they started playing music together, along with the now-absent Chad Murray. When graduation rolled around, it seemed like a no brainer to follow Chris and Jensen back to Richardson. After all, he could start up his shop anywhere and honestly, wherever Chris went, Steve followed. He was a little disappointed that Chris didn’t want to live together. Well, that’s not really fair. Steve knows that Chris both wanted and still wants to move in with him, but he’s too loyal a friend to abandon Jensen. Steve suggested once that they could all three share a house, but Chris didn’t think it was a good idea.   
  
Instead, Steve converted the second floor of Java Script into a small apartment. It’s functional, but that’s about it. He doesn’t want to put a lot of effort into something he hopes is temporary. But he and Chris are in a kind of holding pattern as long as Jensen still needs Chris so much. Steve’s a patient man, though, and he loves Chris to a degree that is truly stupid. So he can wait. He tries not to entertain thoughts about what might happen if Jensen never gets any better, and if sometimes, in the dark hours of the early morning, he fails, well, he can just pretend he doesn’t remember.   
  
Steve jerks himself back into the present and realizes he has gotten exactly nowhere on his paperwork. Right now he’s not worried about him and Chris. Right now he’s worried about Jensen and how he’s going to deal with the newest introduction to their inner circle. Jensen doesn’t do that well with new people. Based on their first meeting, though, Steve thinks Jared is as good a choice as they could have hoped to find. It’s not just that he’s a good bass player. Any number of people fit that bill, but Jared seems to have a really good grasp of people and how to deal with them. Steve knows he noticed Jensen clamming up when they were introduced, but Jared didn’t push the issue.   
  
“You know, boss, if you’re not careful your face will stick like that.”   
  
Steve’s assistant manager, Sophia, is leaning on the back of his chair, grinning impishly at him. He rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t you have work to do?” he demands with mock sternness.   
  
“Oh, absolutely. Let me just go take care of that 6:30 coffee rush.” She gestures broadly around the store at the empty counter and the three customers reading contentedly in various corners. “So what’s got your sunny self looking all dark and moody?” she enquires.   
  
“Nothing. We, uh, found a new bass player.”   
  
Sophia’s smile dims momentarily, but brightens almost before Steve can catch it. “But that’s good news, right? I mean, you can start booking real gigs again!”   
  
He smiles. “Yeah, it’s good. I’m just worried about Jensen.” He doesn’t have to elaborate. Sophia nods in comprehension immediately.   
  
“Nice guy?”   
  
“Yeah, better than we could have expected.”   
  
“Then it’ll be fine.”   
  
“I hope so.”   
  
The door on the bell jingles and a customer wanders in. Sophia straightens up and moves towards the counter. Steve grabs her hand before she can get far. “Hey, Soph?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Chad’s an ass.”   
  
She tries to grin, but it’s more of a grimace. “Yeah, I know.” Her mood shifts abruptly. “Now stop keeping me from doing business!”   
  
He laughs and lets her go, but follows her with his eyes. Sophia and Chad dated for nearly a year before he up and moved to New York. He didn’t give her any more warning than the rest of them and Steve finds it much harder to forgive the guy for dumping Sophia like yesterday’s garbage than for abandoning the band. She’s strong, though, and she’s already bouncing back. Steve shakes his head. Chad’s an idiot as well as an ass if he didn’t realize what he had in Sophia.   
  
Just as Steve is turning his attention back to his paperwork, the bell rings again and Chris walks in. He sets the paper aside and stands, grinning wide. “Hey, baby,” he greets. He never gets tired of being allowed that easy familiarity.   
  
Chris bounds up and kisses him in greeting. “Hey, yourself.”   
  
“You’re early.”   
  
“Yeah, figured we could use a little quality time.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.   
  
Steve laughs. “You’re shameless, you know that?”   
  
“Yep! Come on and let me show you a good time.”   
  
Chris grabs his hand and drags him towards the door that opens on the stairs to his little apartment. He glances over his shoulder once and sees Sophia blowing him a kiss. He flushes a little, but follows his boyfriend eagerly.   
  
They clatter up the stairs and into his tiny living room/dining room/kitchen. Chris shoves him right up against the nearest wall kisses him. He licks across Steve’s lips until he lets him in and their tongues tangle enthusiastically. They sink into each other like that for a few minutes before Chris pulls back and nips his lower lip lightly. “Missed you last night,” he pouts.   
  
“Oh, poor baby,” Steve returns, “Why don’t you show me how much?”   
  
Chris smirks devilishly. “Yeah, I can do that.” He teases his way down Steve’s chest, undoing one button at a time and kissing and licking at each newly exposed inch of flesh. Steve groans and lets his head fall back against the wall.   
  
When Chris reaches the waistline of Steve’s jeans, he swipes his tongue back and forth just above it tantalizingly. Steve makes a slight whimpering sound in the back of his throat. “Stop teasing!”   
  
Chris looks up at him along the line of his torso, his eyes sparkling. “You know I’m good for it, baby.” He pops the button of Steve’s jeans and opens the fly, quickly shoving both jeans and boxers down around his knees. Then he pauses for just a moment. “Never get tired of seeing you hard for me,” he murmurs. Then he swallows as much of Steve’s cock as he can take. He wraps his hand around the base and starts bobbing up and down, sucking hard.   
  
Steve groans and thrusts his hands into Chris’ hair. Chris is doing things with his tongue that ought to be illegal. Actually, come to think of it, are illegal in Texas, but who’s counting? Steve’s chest is heaving and he’s muttering an incoherent string of almost words as Chris drives him crazy. He feels the tension building from the base of his spine and tries to pull Chris’ head back. “Gonna. Gonna come,” he pants. Chris just hums around his cock and the vibration is Steve’s undoing. He’s coming hard, spurting right down Chris’ throat and Chris just sucks him dry.   
  
The second he’s stopped shaking, Steve drags Chris up off his knees and kisses him sloppily. He tastes himself in Chris’ mouth and that’s just so dirtywrong it’s right. He fumbles with Chris jeans, getting them undone remarkably quickly considering the state of his fine motor skills. He thrusts a hand right down into Chris’ boxers and wraps it around his still-hard cock. Chris is teetering on the edge already and it doesn’t take more than a half dozen practiced pulls, catching the bundle of nerves right under the head each time, to bring him off.   
  
Chris sags against him and they both slide down the wall to sprawl in a sated tangle of limbs. After a few minutes, their heart rates slow back down to something approaching normal.   
  
“Hey,” Chris says, his voice kind of sleepy sexy, “Can I borrow some boxers?”   
  
Steve snorts. “Yeah, sure.” He glances at his watch. “Hurry it up. We’ve got company coming and we’re late.”   
  
Chris scrambles to his feet and makes his way into Steve’s bedroom. “What time is it?” he asks as Steve hears a dresser drawer opening.   
  
“7:05.”   
  
“Shit.”   
  
Steve chuckles a little as he struggles up off the floor. He grabs a handful of tissues from the little table beside the couch and cleans himself up as best he can. Fortunately his clothes survived the encounter intact. He’s just managed to get himself buttoned up and more or less presentable when Chris reemerges from the bedroom in the same state. They’re both a bit flushed and their hair could use a good brushing, but there’s no time for that. Steve grins lasciviously at his boyfriend.   
  
“Worth being a little late for if you ask me,” he says.   
  
“Amen, brother.”   
  


~*~

  
  
Jared wanders into the Java Script a few minutes before seven. He used Google Maps this time, even though he knew it was close enough to walk, but he didn’t want to risk being late because of some kind of divine retribution for daring to stray from the one true map. So, he left early. He found the place with no problem, breathed a sigh of relief, then took a couple of trips around the block. He didn’t want to be freakishly early, after all.   
  
Now he’s only slightly early. He looks around and spots Jensen quickly, almost lost in a huge, fluffy blue chair.   
  
“Hey, Jensen!” he greets enthusiastically, excited that he has a chance to talk to him alone.   
  
Jensen starts slightly, then relaxes somewhat when he recognizes Jared. “Hey.”   
  
“What’s up? Chris and Steve here yet?”   
  
Jensen rolls his eyes. “Oh, they’re here,” he says, “They’re just upstairs.”   
  
Jared’s confused for a minute and then it hits him. “You mean they’re—oh!”   
  
“Yeah, they’re kind of like rabbits,” Jensen says, smirking.   
  
That surprises a laugh out of Jared. “Well, there are worse things, right?”   
  
Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Definitely.”   
  
Just then, Chris and Steve emerge from the door at the back of the room looking somewhat the worse for wear. They make their way over and each grab a chair at the low table.   
  
“Hey, guys! Jared, glad you could make it,” Chris greets.   
  
Jared nods, biting his lips to keep from laughing. He figures it wouldn’t exactly be a good move to laugh at his brand new bandleader. He looks over and notices that Steve’s cheeks are burning, even as he looks quite pleased with himself. Chris, however, doesn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed.   
  
He leans over and stage whispers into Jared’s ear, “Gotta grab a little quality time with my boy when I can, right?”   
  
And Jared is officially done. He cracks up, laughing so hard he can barely breathe and Chris slaps him on the back helpfully. He manages to get himself under control after a couple of minutes. Jensen is just looking at him, one eyebrow raised expressively. Steve buries his head in his hands and shakes it disbelievingly.   
  
Chris just grins around the table like the whole spectacle is the best thing he’s seen all day. “Clearly, we all need a drink or six,” he declares.   
  
Steve perks up at that. “Sophia!” he calls across to the bar.   
  
A gorgeous brunette who reminds Jared a little bit of Sandy calls back, “Yeah, boss?”   
  
“Irish coffee all around. These boys are dangerous sober!”   
  
A few Irish coffees later Jared is feeling loose limbed and content. He’s talking to Chris and Steve like he’s known them forever and his hand is resting on Jensen’s thigh. Because at some point Jensen left his own chair and came to sit on the arm of Jared’s, slinging an arm around Jared’s neck.   
  
Jared’s ecstatic at the attention, but there’s something slightly off about the scenario. He keeps trying to pin it down and he thinks if he were a little more sober he might be able to figure it out, but as it is, it flits around the edges of his consciousness, never quite coming into focus. It’s annoying, like a fly buzzing around his head, right in his peripheral vision, so he bats it away and concentrates on the pleasant warmth of the points of contact between him and Jensen.   
  
At some point Jensen loses his balance and tumbles into Jared’s lap. There are slurred apologies and raucous laughter, but somehow Jensen doesn’t actually get up. He shifts and wriggles a bit until he’s curled into Jared’s side. Jared spends a few awkward moments wondering what to do with his hands until he just decides to go with it and lets one arm settle comfortably around Jensen’s shoulders.   
  
It’s weird and he knows it’s weird and Chris and Steve are giving them shifty looks that Jared can’t quite read, but Jensen feels so good pressed up against him that he can’t bring himself to care. After another awkward moment, conversation starts up again. Jared’s finding it a little hard to concentrate on the topic at hand, and it’s definitely not just the alcohol. He has to focus more than a little to suppress the hard-on he’s getting from Jensen’s legs rubbing across his lap. A time or two he catches the edge of a mischievous smile on Jensen’s face that makes him pretty sure it’s not accidental.   
  
A little while later, Jensen arches his neck up, pressing his lips against Jared’s jaw, just under his ear and murmuring something. Jared can hardly make out the words over the delicious sensations sliding along his nerves from the feel of Jensen’s lips on his skin.   
  
“Hey, you wanna get out of here?”   
  
Jared suppresses a low groan and nods emphatically. The next thing he knows Jensen’s pulled him up out of the chair and is somehow simultaneously hanging off of him and propelling him towards the door.   
  
A second after that, his side is cold and empty with Jensen’s sudden absence. Chris drags him just out of earshot, speaking too low for Jared to hear, but his expression is angry and disapproving and he’s making rather violent gestures in Jared’s direction. Jensen listens calmly until Chris seems to wind himself down. Then he shakes his head firmly before shoving past his friend and walking back to Jared.   
  
Jensen’s lips curl downright evilly as he wraps an arm back around Jared’s waist. “I believe we had somewhere to be,” he purrs.   
  
Jared makes a valiant attempt at coherency. “What’s with Chris?”   
  
Jensen actually clucks his tongue. “Don’t worry about it. He’s such a mother hen. Let’s just go.”   
  
His fingers are teasing along the skin just above Jared’s waistband and that’s really enough incentive for Jared. “Yeah, okay.”   
  
They make it out the door onto the sidewalk. As they try to decide on a direction, Jensen mumbles something about it being awkward at his place because of Chris. Jared points out that his apartment is within walking distance. “But it’s a mess,” he cautions.   
  
Jensen rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Not gonna make a lot of difference, is it?”   
  
Jared swallows hard at the implication, even though it’s not like he’s missed the point of leaving wrapped around each other. He’s a college graduate after all. He has the observational skills to figure that one out. And now he’s rambling ironically to himself. Except Jensen is laughing at him so perhaps his silent ramble was a little louder than anticipated and damn! Jared is never accepting alcohol from Steve again.   
  
It takes them about fifteen minutes to stumble their way the four blocks to Jared’s apartment. Once he manages to fumble the lock open Jensen just stares for a minute, seemingly awed by the sheer vastness of the mess. “You weren’t kidding.”   
  
“Dude, I warned you, but you didn’t want to hear it.”   
  
“Is there a bed in here somewhere?”   
  
And just like that Jared switches gears again. “Oh, hell yes.” He grabs Jensen’s arm and leads him through the tiny, safe path into the bedroom. Jensen pushes Jared up against the wall beside the door and shoves his t-shirt up over his head. Jared is surprised by the forceful move, but he raises his arms over his head to help the process along nonetheless.   
  
He ducks his head, intending to kiss Jensen, but Jensen ducks to the side and starts nibbling his way down Jared’s neck towards his shoulder. He follows, really wanting to know what those sinful looking lips feel like. This time Jensen makes himself perfectly clear. He stops Jared by taking his chin in his hand and looking him straight in the eye. “No,” he says simply and firmly.   
  
Jared stares into strangely cold green eyes and for a second he sees what looks like fear. Then he blinks and it’s gone, so he must have imagined it. He shrugs, confused, but willing to go with pretty much whatever because his upstairs brain is mostly out of commission.   
  
Jensen is driving the whole situation and Jared feels like he’s just along for the ride. It’s a really, really fun ride, though. In no time he finds himself divested of the rest of his clothes and then Jensen is undressing himself. Jared tries to help, but finds he’s more of a hindrance to the process.   
  
When they’re both naked, Jensen sinks to his knees and takes Jared’s cock in his mouth. Jared groans and throws his head back. It makes a dull thud against the wall, but the minor pain in his head can’t compete with the major pleasure of Jensen’s mouth enveloping him. He reaches forward to cradle Jensen’s head in his hands, but that makes Jensen pull back abruptly.   
  
He looks up the long plane of Jared’s torso. “No,” he says again.   
  
Now Jared definitely knows something is tweaked because Jensen just passed the “control freak” sign doing ninety and he wishes he’d had about three fewer Irish Coffees so he’d be sober enough to figure this one out, but he didn’t and he isn’t and he really just wants the warm, wet heat of Jensen’s mouth back on him. So he nods and gives in again, bracing his hands against the wall instead.   
  
Jensen licks and sucks and uses just the barest hint of teeth to drive Jared insane until he thinks he’s going to explode if he doesn’t come right this minute. Then suddenly Jensen is crawling up his body and shoving him towards the bed. It’s still rumpled from this morning because in his wildest fantasies he never imagined he’d be having someone over for sex when he’s been in town less than a week, but Jensen doesn’t seem to mind, so Jared doesn’t worry about it.   
  
Jensen pushes him forward onto his hands and knees and crawls up close behind him and Jared may be drunk, but he’s not far enough gone to be okay with  _that_. He twists around to look at Jensen and now it’s his turn. He shakes his head firmly. “No. You wanna fuck me, you have to look at me while you do it.” Jared’s definitely not opposed to trying different positions, but something’s just off enough about the whole thing that he feels the need to insist.  
  
Jensen’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline. He’s clearly never had anyone questions his methods before. Then his face sets in a mulish expression. Jared just stares stubbornly back at him. After a few moments of an intense, silent battle of wills, Jensen shrugs, giving in.   
  
Jared’s lips twitch in satisfaction and relief. He’s glad he’s not the only one being led by his dick. He rolls fully onto his back and draws his knees up and Jensen crawls in between them. He’s already got a condom and lube in his hand. He tears the foil wrapper open and rolls the latex over his cock as Jared watches, mesmerized.   
  
Jensen preps him efficiently, letting Jared know he’s done this more than a few times, but gently enough that he’s squirming only with pleasure. Then the fingers are gone and Jensen is pushing Jared’s knees further up and apart. He guides his slick cock into Jared’s opening and Jared draws his breath in between clenched teeth at the unbelievable feeling of fullness.   
  
They’re both still for a moment as Jared adjusts, then he wraps his legs around Jensen’s waist and arches his hips up, letting Jensen know he’s ready to move. As with almost everything this evening, Jensen takes the lead, setting up a rhythm that has Jared whimpering and writhing beneath him.   
  
For long moments while they move together, Jared locks eyes with Jensen. He watches emotions flit through the clear green irises too quickly to be identified, but they’re definitely not all good. Jared gets the feeling Jensen wouldn’t be too happy if he realized how revealing his eyes are just now.   
  
Another moment and Jensen reaches in between them, taking Jared’s cock in his hand and tugging to create an utterly distracting friction. It doesn’t take either of them long after that. Jensen’s thrusts become erratic and his harsh breathing picks up a little whine on the exhale.   
  
Jared’s not really sure who comes first, but it’s so close it really doesn’t matter. Then Jensen is collapsing half on top of him and they’re both trying to catch their breath.   
  
After another moment, Jensen pulls out carefully and disposes of the condom. He’s about to flop back down when Jared catches sight of his face.   
  
“Hey,” he says, tenderness lacing through his fucked out voice as he reaches up a massive hand to catch Jensen’s jaw, “You’re crying.” He rubs his thumb gently across Jensen’s wet cheek. He’s not sure what he expects after that, but it isn’t this.   
  
Jensen swipes the back of his hand across his eyes as though he needs tangible confirmation of this turn of events. When he feels the tears Jared has pointed out, he’s suddenly batting Jared’s hand away, backing out of bed and reaching for his clothes seemingly in a single movement.   
  
“I gotta go,” he mutters to the t-shirt in his hands before pulling it over his head.   
  
Jared is baffled and he struggles to a sitting position. “Hey, wait. Why?”   
  
Jensen’s managed to pulls his clothes on, however haphazardly, and he stuffs his feet into his shoes. He doesn’t even look at Jared as he tosses a “See ya,” over his shoulder and is out the door.   
  
Jared makes it out of bed and grabs his boxers as he hears one of his boxes hit the ground with a loud crash. There’s a muffled word that might be “Sorry” and then his door slamming. By the time Jared makes it out of the bedroom, Jensen’s gone.   
  
He stands more than half naked in his living room, staring at the closed front door in consternation. “What the hell?” he asks the empty apartment.   
  



	3. Part 2

_Hey, Jensen. It’s uh, it’s Jared. I just wanted to let you know I had a great time last night. Um. You seemed kind of upset when you left. I hope it wasn’t something I did because I had a really good time. I guess I said that. Anyway, I hope we can do it again soon. I mean – shit – get together again soon. Not just for sex. I mean – we could – God. Nevermind. I’d just really like to get to know you better. Um. And I guess I’ll see you at practice too. Gimme a call back whenever. Bye._

 

*

_Hey, Jensen. It’s Jared. I swear I’m not a crazy stalker or anything. I just wanted to make sure you got my message yesterday, ‘cause I haven’t heard from you. I mean, it’s cool. It’s only been a day, but sometimes messages get lost. So, I just wanted to make sure. Yeah. Anyway, call me back. Talk to you later._

 

*

_Hey, it’s Jared again. Missed you at practice today. I had to keep rhythm all by myself. Heh. Yeah, so Chris said you were really swamped at work. Hope things get less hectic soon. Gimme a call. Bye._

 

*

_Hey, Jensen. Listen, I don’t wanna sound paranoid or anything, but it kinda seems like you’re avoiding me. Could you please just call me back? Thanks._

 

*

_Okay, I really am starting to feel like a crazy stalker now. But this is two practices in a row. I asked Steve and he said you’ve only missed practice once before in four years and that was because you were really sick. It’s because of me, isn’t it? Look, I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset you. If you’d just call me we could talk about it, all right? Okay, bye, Jensen._

 

~*~

Jensen’s fingers shake as he snaps his phone shut on Jared’s latest message. He’s clearly made a grave miscalculation. Not only isn’t Jared taking the hint, he’s hanging on with more tenacity than Jensen would have thought possible.

“Uh, is this a bad time?”

Jensen’s head snaps up, and he sees Allie hovering in the doorway.

“What?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Well, you looked like you might be busy trying to crush your phone with the power of your mind.”

He looks back down at the offending piece of technology and shoves it quickly into his pocket, simultaneously shutting his tangled mental state away for later review, and looks back up with a bland smile. “It’s nothing,” he says.

She looks at him skeptically. “Uh huh, sure,” she says, but seemingly decides to let it go. “Anyway, I came to see if you were up for lunch.”

He glances at his computer screen, and, sure enough, the clock reads 12:15. He shrugs. He’s learned quickly that giving into Allie’s manic determination to socialize with him is much easier than resisting. “Sure, why not?”

“Great! I’ll grab my jacket,” she chirps.

Once they settle in at the restaurant – Chinese today – Allie picks the subject back up, dashing Jensen’s futile hope that she’d forget about it.

“So, wanna tell me what that was about earlier?”

“When?”

She gives him an incredulous look. “When you were using your laser eyes on your cell phone?”

“Oh. No, not really.”

That startles a laugh from her. “Well, at least you’re honest. It might help to talk about it though.”

“Doubt it.”

“Come on, try me.”

He breathes out slowly, counting to ten. “Someone keeps calling me and I want him to stop,” he says, proud of the way his voice stays even.

“Why?” Allie asks, tilting her head to the side.

“I like him.” The honest answer is out of his mouth before he realizes it. He bites his lips together, desperately wishing he could take it back.

Allie’s giving him that look again, like he’s a rare specimen she doesn’t yet understand, but clearly intends to study until she does. “You know,” she says, sounding like she’s choosing her words carefully, “When I like someone, I usually want them to call me.”

“I don’t like anybody,” he blurts out and goddammit! It’s like he has no control over what’s coming out of his mouth today. “Listen, can we just stop talking about this? Please?” He hears the edge of hysteria in his voice and cringes.

She looks puzzled. “Yeah, sure,” she says, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and looking around at other tables and the pseudo-Asian décor.

Jensen’s relieved that she doesn’t force the issue, but he doesn’t think he can sit across from her for the rest of the lunch hour either. He knows he was letting his freakishness show there a little bit. That hasn’t happened around anyone other than Chris or Steve for years. Then Jared comes along and knocks him totally off balance and it’s like he can’t quite keep his mask in place anymore. His tie feels like it’s trying to strangle him and it’s suddenly far too hot. He stands up.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I’m really swamped today. I have to get going.”

“But we haven’t even ordered yet!”

He shrugs, grimacing apologetically. “See you back at the office.”

“Yeah, okay,” she sighs.

He walks out into the Texas sunshine and he can breathe again.

 

~*~

Jared snaps up his phone the second it starts to ring and flips it open without checking to see who’s calling.

“Hello?” he says breathlessly.

“Hey, sweetie,” says a feminine voice.

“Oh,” Jared says, his shoulders slumping and he knows he’s failing at keeping the disappointment out of his voice, “Hey, Sandy.”

“Wow, I feel loved.”

He sighs. “Sorry. It’s not you. It’s just, I was hoping—never mind.”

“Oh, no, you’re not getting away with that. You were hoping what? Jared,” she pauses and he can practically hear the wheels in her head turning from here, “Have you met someone?”

“No! Yes. I don’t know. Maybe?”

“You either have or you haven’t, honey. Now which is it?”

“Yes, but—“ he breaks off with a frustrated noise.

“But?”

“Well, we, uh, we hooked up, but that was two weeks ago and ever since then he won’t pick up his phone or return any of my calls and I don’t know what I did or how to make it better.”

“Okay, back up. Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

Sandy’s got that no bullshit allowed tone in her voice that’s always made Jared a little afraid of her, even if she is a tiny person. He settles in and tells her all about Jensen and too much liquor and everything else.

She listens along until he runs himself down, then says, “Oh, Jay, I’m sorry. That’s a bit of a mess. You really like him?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then you definitely shouldn’t let him go without a fight. Not to mention you can’t just give up the band. If he won’t pick up the phone, go see him.”

“You really think so?” Jared feels the stirrings of hope in his chest at having a possible course of action to follow.

“I do,” Sandy says decisively.

“Okay. I’ll go see him.”

“Good. So, moving on, how’s the new job?”

“Well, being a fact checker for the _Richardson Gazette_ is just the kind of high pressure, fast paced job I imagined getting with my Journalism major,” he says, rolling his eyes and leaning back against the couch cushions, relaxing for the first time in days. “But what about you? How are things back h—in San Antone?”

“Good, good. Everybody misses you like crazy, of course. Why’d you have to go and graduate a year early, anyway?”

He laughs. “I’m just ornery like that.”

“Anyway, I swear I don’t know what I’m going to do with Justin. I know it’s summer and everything, but he’s acting like senior year is gonna last forever. I think the real world will be a bit of a shock.”

“Yeah, no kidding. You think he’s gonna man up and propose soon?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. I love him to pieces, but I don’t think he’s ready for that kind of commitment.”

“Are you?”

“Maybe?”

“Well, sweetheart, there’s no rush you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I guess I just had this idea that everything was going to work out perfectly, you know? I’d meet Mr. Right in college and we’d get married right out of college. Now I don’t know if that’s going to happen or if I even want it.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Jared assures her, “Just don’t forget to have a little fun, okay?”

“Well, it won’t be easy without you are your sugar induced crazy plans, but I’ll try.”

“Good.”

“Now I think you need to go get your man.”

“Oh, God, wish me luck!”

“Please, with the puppy eyes of doom, you won’t need it.”

 

~*~

“Come on, Jensen! Open the door. I know you’re in there!”

Chris rubs his temples as the banging starts again. Jared has been outside, knocking and yelling, for the last ten minutes. Clearly he isn’t going to go away until one of the neighbors calls the cops. So Chris gives in and jerks the door open.

Jared freezes mid-knock and has the good grace to look a bit chagrined. “Oh, hey, Chris,” he says.

“Look, Jared,” Chris says wearily, “He’s actually not home right now, but if he was, you’d be freaking him the hell out.”

Jared just gapes at him.

Chris sighs. “Come on, son. Let’s step outside and chat for a bit.”

Jared falls back a couple of steps as Chris crowds him out onto the tiny front porch. They sit down side by side and look out at the front yard in silence for a few moments. Finally, Chris speaks.

“Listen, what do you want from Jensen anyway?”

He feels Jared tense up beside him. When he speaks, his voice is carefully polite. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.”

And they are so not going there. “Jensen’s been my best friend since grade school. His business is my business. You’d best just accept that here and now.”

Jared huffs out an offended breath. “Fine. Well then he could return my calls for a start.”

“All twenty-seven of them?” Chris teases gently, trying to soothe Jared’s ego so he might listen to reason.

It seems to work because Jared laughs wryly. “I guess I have been calling a lot,” he concedes.

 _No shit_ , is what Chris wants to say, but he can’t imagine that going over well. Instead, he asks again. “So, what do you want from him?”

Jared sighs, burying his head in his hands. “I really like him,” he admits. He lifts his head and pierces Chris with an anguished stare. “And I thought—“ he breaks off and looks away again. When he speaks again, it’s barely audible. “I thought he liked me too.”

Chris nods sympathetically and claps a hand on Jared’s shoulder. “You’re not the first one,” he says.

“So what should I do?”

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you here. Like I said, Jensen’s my best friend. So he’s the one I’m looking after. But I like you, Jared. If you’ve got a lick of sense in your head, you’ll listen to what I’m saying. All right?”

He waits for Jared to nod before continuing.

“Right now, you need to back off. Jen, he’s—he’s skittish and you’re doing a really good obsessive stalker impression. Just cool it. Stop calling him. Come to practice. Hang out with us, drink some beers, take it easy. If we’re lucky we can make it work as a band. Anything more than that, well. That would be up to Jensen. All right?”

Jared’s jaw clenches momentarily and he looks ready to argue again. Then he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

Chris manages to keep his sigh of relief internal. “All right, good. Then I’ll see you for practice in a couple days.”

“Okay. See ya, Chris.” Jared stands and heads back to his car, waving just before he gets in.

Chris waves back and then goes inside.

“Is he gone?”

Chris levels his gaze at Jensen, peeking out of his bedroom door. “Yeah, Jen, he’s gone.”

Jensen smiles in relief. “Okay, good. Thanks, Chris.”

Chris shakes his head. “It’s not right, what you’re doing to him.”

Jensen shrugs helplessly. “I know. I just can’t—it’s the only thing I know how to do.”

“I know, Jen. I hate to say I told you so, but, well, I did.”

“I had to, okay? He wasn’t like—He made me feel—He made me _feel_.”

Jensen looks stricken, but Chris is suddenly filled with hope. All the guys Jensen has fucked, not one of them has gotten to him the way Jared has. If things play out just right, like a perfectly balanced house of cards, Jensen might finally be able to move on from what happened. He might finally really heal instead of just hiding.

Chris tries to quell his optimism. This isn’t a fairytale. Jensen isn’t just going to get better. But what if he did? Chris brutally cuts off his imagination as it begins to create a picture of what that might be like. It would hurt too much if it didn’t happen. But he can’t quite get rid of the stubborn little glow in his chest telling him that this time is different. _Jared_ is different.

 

~*~

Jared goes home and starts unpacking, something he neglected to do while he was busy going all crazy stalker on Jensen. Well, _he_ didn’t think he was as bad as all that, but apparently Jensen had a different opinion. As did Chris.

He reflects on the situation while he tries to determine how best to fit a lifetime of possessions into an apartment better suited to Polly Pocket than a man of Jared’s stature. His instincts tell him to keep calling and banging on doors, but clearly that’s not quite the solid plan he thought it was.

Jensen doesn’t like that. Jensen requires a different approach. Actually, if he understood Chris correctly, Jensen needs him to back off, conceal all signs of lustful feelings, and then _maybe_ they can be friends.

Clearly Jensen has more baggage than Louis Vuitton, and it’s probably not as pretty. If Jared were a sane person, he’d cut his losses. He nods emphatically and moves his armchair for the fourth time, trying to achieve better feng shui. Or something.

Right, okay, nobody ever accused Jared of being particularly balanced. And he just can’t stop thinking about Jensen. Not just his lips, his freckles, and his body – although those thoughts are definitely present – but _him_. That wild creature Jared caught a glimpse of while he was drumming, shut away behind green glass eyes. His calculating seduction – for Jared now realizes that’s what happened – followed by tears and a flash of panic.

Jensen’s an enigma and Jared is hopelessly fascinated. He sighs and rearranges his dishes. He’s just going to have to take Chris’ advice and see how it goes. It’s clearly the only way he’s ever going to see Jensen again. And Jared’s a little worried by how much he wants to see Jensen. All the time preferably.

He alphabetizes DVDs while he tries to find the hidden reserve of inner calm he’s going to need to have even the slightest hope of pulling this off. _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ , _The Breakfast Club_ , _Breakfast on Pluto_ . . . well, it is the most important meal of the day.

He thinks of the place he goes when he plays bass. The rhythmic rumble of the low notes as his fingers pluck the strings. It’s like solid ground. If he can just hold on to that feeling when he’s with Jensen he thinks he has a tiny chance of succeeding. Tiny, but still there.

Jared grins. He maybe even whistles a jaunty tune as he starts unrolling his posters from college to decide which, if any, of them belong on the walls of his grown-up apartment.

 

~*~

Chris is surprised and pleased in equal measure when Jared actually takes his advice and backs off. He stops calling and doesn’t come by the house or the Java Script for a whole week and miraculously, next band practice, Jensen actually shows up.

He’s in a foul mood, just plays his drums and stares straight ahead at the wall in front of him the rest of the time, but he’s there. Jared shuffles around uncomfortably, looking like he’s trying to take up less space. He barely even looks at Jensen, watching his hands for the beat and avoiding eye contact.

Chris tries to put the kid at ease, but after a few pained attempts at small talk, Steve gives him a look which he takes to mean, “Just shut up and play your music.” Sound advice that he takes to heart.

They manage to limp through that practice and another one just like it. The third practice since “The Incident,” as Chris refers to it in his head, the tension level decreases ever so slightly. Jensen seems to be feeling more at ease now that Jared has made it through two whole practices without jumping on top of him or humping his leg or whatever.

Now that Jensen’s no longer glaring daggers at the wall, Jared loosens up a bit as well. He still doesn’t really talk to Jensen though. He talks to Chris and Steve. Sometimes Jensen talks to Chris and Steve at the same time. It’s an awkward little dance of almost communication, but Chris isn’t about to quibble with progress, however small.

 

~*~

It’s half an hour from closing one Friday night when Steve’s cell phone rings unexpectedly. He leans the push broom against the wall and fishes it out of his pocket.

“Jared?”

“Yeah. Hey, Steve.”

“Um, what’s up?”

“Oh, you know, not much. What are you doing?”

“Working.”

“Oh, shit! Sorry! I didn’t think.”

“Hey, no worries. We’re just getting ready to close up.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. So did you need something?”

“Well. Heh. I’m about to climb the walls I’m so bored. And y’all are pretty much the only people I know. Well, the only people I know that I’d actually want to hang out with. So. I just thought I’d see what you were doing.”

Steve grins and takes pity on the kid. “Well, Chris was gonna come over and jam for a bit. You want in?”

“Oh, but aren’t y’all—I mean, I wouldn’t want to interrupt. Um, anything.”

Steve coughs in embarrassment. “Oh my god! We do other things besides have sex!”

That earns him a skeptical look from Sophia as she looks up from wiping down the counter. He glares back.

“Uh, well—“ Jared says.

“We do! Shut up! Just come over to my place in half an hour. And bring your bass.”

Jared laughs. “Fine, but if the upstairs is rockin’ I won’t come a’knockin’.”

Steve rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify that with a response.

 

~*~

Halfway through summer and they’re really starting to settle in as a band – and as friends. Chris knows Jared hasn’t forgotten Jensen, though, or gotten over him or whatever. Every once in a while he’ll catch this _look_ in Jared’s eyes. It’s always gone almost before he can catch it, but he knows he’s not imagining it.

Then one practice Jared’s all twitchy and nervous. They play hard for a couple of hours and he’s on as usual, but his eyes are shifty. As they’re cleaning up and packing up afterwards, Jared snaps his case closed and ambles up to Jensen. Chris holds his breath, unsure, but hopeful.

“Hey, Jensen?” Jared asks, shifting his feet a bit.

Jensen’s crouched down, examining some minute detail of the bass drum. He turns his head to look over his shoulder without standing up. “Yeah?”

“Umm, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over and hang out—“ he glances up and Chris and Chris desperately gestures sideways with his head, hoping Jared gets the message “Umm, you know, this weekend or something? Watch the game? You know, if you want.”

Chris sighs in relief. Jared caught the drift. You can’t just ask Jen to hang out. He needs time to plan and schedule. Chris waits on tenterhooks for his answer. He figures Jared can’t be any more nervous than him.

Jensen purses his lips, turns back to fiddle with the drum again. Then he shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

Jared’s grin is blinding. “Okay. Great! I’ll see you around seven?”

Jensen nods. “Seven it is.”

 

~*~

At 6:45 on the night that Jensen is coming over, Jared is pacing and nervous. He straightens non-existent clutter and wipes away imaginary dust. He’s long since unpacked the boxes that tripped them up on Jensen’s first visit. He shivers at the heat of that memory, then bats it away. He’s never going to make it through a whole evening in Jensen’s company if he’s thinking about _that_.

At 6:55 he forces himself to stop and take a few deep breaths. This is just a relaxed evening with his platonic friend. Who fucked him and then freaked out. Yeah, no pressure at all.

At 6:58 there’s no more time to freak out because the doorbell rings. Jared waits for a couple of seconds before opening the door – just long enough that it doesn’t seem like he was waiting with his hand on the doorknob.

He has to force himself not to stare. A couple of months of exposure have done nothing to dull Jared’s perception of Jensen’s hotness. It’s deeply unfair and he feels like he should have built up an immunity or something, but Jensen takes his breath away every single time.

“Hey, Jensen,” he says, nodding casually and locking all his lustful thoughts away in a tiny, dark closet at the back of his mind. Okay, all except for one or two. He’s only human.

“Hey.” Jensen nods back as he walks in. Jared watches him take in the clean and unpacked apartment. He glances at Jared like he wants to make a comment, but he doesn’t.

Jared gets it. If Jensen acknowledges that he’s been here before, he acknowledges that whole not just friends thing.

“You want a beer, man?”

“Sure.”

Jared grabs a couple of bottles from the refrigerator and uncaps them. He hands one to Jensen and they settle in on the couch. Jensen sits on one end, leaving plenty of room, but he’s not pressed up against the arm or anything. Jared counts that as a victory. He sits down on the other end, well clear of Jensen’s personal bubble.

As the game goes on, Jared yells at the screen. Jensen doesn’t, but once or twice Jared catches a bemused expression directed at him. The fondly confused look warms Jared from the inside. It’s not much, but it gives him hope.

 

~*~

The next week Jared asks Jensen if he wants to come again and it feels like a small miracle when he accepts. It becomes a regular thing. Sometimes they watch whatever game happens to be on, sometimes they play video games. Jared’s tends to flail around when he plays video games. Jensen plays with unflappable concentration, but Jared thinks he enjoys it nonetheless.

Jared mostly enjoys Jensen. He’s trying really hard not to get his hopes up, but he’s getting that fond look from Jensen more and more often. And once, oh. Once Jared beat Jensen at Halo and he risked some light teasing. Jensen rolled his eyes and shoved Jared in the shoulder with this cute little smile on his face. Jared had to concentrate extra hard not to tackle Jensen and kiss him senseless that time.

So now, Jared and Jensen are friends. Jared has managed to worm his way past that first layer of defenses. He’s not quite sure how to go about the rest of his stealth attack and he knows that from here on out it’s going to be a lot harder – because up until now it’s been a cake walk, really – but Jensen is worth it.

 

~*~

Far enough into the summer that the first back-to-school sales have started popping up, Chris books them their first gig. It’s at a local bar that’ll pay them in free beer, but the place usually draws a crowd and exposure is exposure. So that’s how Collin Street Secret comes out. Metaphorically speaking.

It’s an unwritten law that every small town must have at least one twenty-four hour diner and said diner must serve breakfast for all of those hours. Richardson is no exception to this rule, which is how Jared finds himself at Mama Steve’s Pancake House with the band at 3 a.m.

They’ve just finished the gig and it was awesome. They’re all more than a little drunk and haven’t yet burned off the adrenaline of playing in front of an audience. Jared eyes his enormous stack of pancakes with unabashed delight. He liberally applies the maple syrup, then stuffs a huge bite into his mouth.

He groans in appreciation. “These are awesome,” he enthuses around his mouthful of pancake.

“Just like Mama used to make, huh, kid?” Chris says.

Jared shrugs, suddenly feeling awkward and wrong. “Yeah, I guess.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves a forkful of pancakes into Chris’ mouth. “Please don’t mention mothers when we are this drunk. That’s just wrong.”

Chris grabs Steve’s syrup-sticky fingers and licks them playfully. “You love it, baby.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and swallows his bite before speaking. “Geez, get a room,” he teases.

The weird tension leaves Jared as the other three banter around him. He loves how easy Jensen is with Chris. He’s always at his most natural with his best friend and now, loose limbed with alcohol and weariness, he’s much less carefully controlled than usual. Jared hopes it means that Jensen is coming to trust him that he’s allowed to see this.

Chris tosses a bit of pancake at Jensen, hitting him squarely in the nose. Jensen retaliates, but accidentally hits Steve instead. Before long, pancake missiles are flying indiscriminately across the table and all four of them are laughing uproariously.

Okay. Jared, Steve, and Chris are laughing uproariously. Jensen is merely grinning, but that’s sort of his version of uproarious laughter anyway.

They leave a ridiculously large tip to make up for the mess and the disturbance and Jared goes home thinking this is the best night he’s ever had. Okay, on up there on the list anyway. He’s always been a fan of hyperbole.

 

~*~

Jensen is getting uncomfortably comfortable with hanging out at Jared’s. He’s emotionally damaged, not stupid. He catches more of the longing looks on his new friend’s face than Jared probably realizes. He knows Jared is still into him, but Jared isn’t saying so. Jensen is deeply familiar with the land of “if you don’t say it, it doesn’t exist,” so he lets it go. It’s for the good of the band. At least that’s what he tells himself.

“I need a new couch,” Jared announces out of the blue, right in the middle of a round of Madden.

“Um, yeah,” Jensen agrees easily, “The frat house reject is not a good look.”

“Ouch! You could have said something.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “It’s rude to insult your host’s furniture.”

Jared laughs. “Please. I think we’re past the overly polite crap. So you wanna help me pick out a new one?”

“Dude, you’re just as gay as me. Can’t you be your own interior design consultant?”

“Have you seen my apartment? The one you’re sitting in the middle of?”

“Good point. Okay, we’ll go to Ikea.”

“Awesome! Next Saturday?”

“How ‘bout tomorrow?”

Jensen freezes for a second after the words leave his mouth. He’s more likely to make plans for next year than the next day. What the hell? Apparently Jared’s thinking the same thing because there’s a long pause before he responds.

“Yeah, sure, tomorrow. I guess it’s a big enough home furnishings emergency,” he says, sounding perfectly normal. Maybe he didn’t catch the weirdness after all. Yeah, right. But Jensen’s more concerned about why he said it in the first place. Jared makes him do the strangest things.

Which is how he finds himself staring down Chris’ look of offended cowboy dignity at quarter ‘till way too fucking early the next morning.

“A man’s truck is an extension of his _soul_ ,” Chris says incredulously.

Jensen hasn’t had his coffee yet and he can barely summon the energy for an eye roll. “Well your soul is great for hauling couches. Come on, gimme the keys. You can take my car if you need to go anywhere.”

Chris draws back with a look of horror on his face. “Oh, no. I’m not going anywhere in a Ford fucking Focus.”

“It’s a perfectly respectable vehicle.”

“Yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night.” He refuses to take the keys Jensen holds out and Jensen leaves them on the counter. He does, however, grudgingly dig up the keys to his F150 and hand them over.

“Thanks!”

“If there’s a single molecule of paint out of place when you bring her back, there’ll be hell to pay!”

“Yes, mother,” Jensen answers as he heads for the door, keys in one hand, enormous travel mug of coffee in the other.

He picks Jared up and they make the half hour drive north to Frisco. When they climb out in front of the giant blue and yellow building, Jared shakes himself like a dog shaking off excess water.

“Seriously? The President George Bush Turnpike? I think I need a shower.”

Jensen shakes his head, stifling a laugh and Jared’s antics. “This is Texas, Jay. You might wanna get used to it.”

Jared gives one last shake of his shaggy head. “Whatever, dude. Let’s just find me a sofa.”

They walk inside and Jared’s eyes widen comically. He spins around, taking in the entranceway. “Oh my God. I’m already lost!”

“No, you’re not,” Jensen tells him and steers him in the direction of the escalator.

When they get up to the display floor, Jared seriously looks like he might hyperventilate.

“Relax, Jared. It’s just furniture.”

“A lot of furniture.”

“That’s the general idea. Just stay with me. You’re man enough to handle this, okay?”

Jared nods, looking about five. “Yeah, okay.”

They find their way into a vast sea of sofas and Jared’s panic dissipates. He starts running around and bouncing on the cushions of every single one, yelling for Jensen to, “Come try this one! It’s awesome!”

Jensen claps a hand over his eyes, kind of wishing he could disappear. But at the same time, it’s maybe the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“Come on, Jen! You’re going to be using it almost as much as me. Help me out,” Jared insists.

Jensen waves a mental white flag and helps Jared try out couches, although much more calmly. After a considerable amount of cushion bouncing, they settle on a simple, but comfortable model. Jared tries to convince him that the horrendous floral print is a good idea, but Jensen holds firm and talks him down to a jaunty, yet masculine black and white stripe.

Jensen also talks him out of all the lamps and knick-knacks Jared picks up and insists he has to have.

“It only takes special Ikea light bulbs, Jared,” he points out.

“Oh. But it’s so cute!”

“It’s a light fixture, not a puppy.”

“Exactly! I won’t have to feed it or walk it or get it fixed.”

“You’ll have to feed it Ikea light bulbs.”

Jared pouts at him. “You’re no fun.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep you from spending your rent money.”

“Good point.”

However, Jared absolutely cannot be talked out of Swedish meatballs, Swedish coffee, and Swedish chocolate at the checkout.

“I’m expanding my horizons,” he insists.

Jensen throws up his hands. “Oh, fine. At least it’s not a lamp.”

“I’ll share,” Jared says, grinning.

Jensen rolls his eyes, but he feels an inexplicable flush creeping up his neck. He goes to pull the truck around while Jared finishes paying. They get the couch strapped into the bed and head home.

“So, doing anything this weekend besides helping out interior decorating challenged friends?”

Jensen shrugs comfortably. “Nothing much. I have to go to Sunday dinner with my parents.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Jared says.

Jensen grunts. “Not really.”

“Why?”

“It’s just like a weekly inquisition. Am I eating? How’s work? How’s Chris? Make any new friends?”

Jared doesn’t answer right away and when Jensen glances over he’s staring at his lap, biting his lips together.

“You should be grateful they care about you that much,” he says softly.

Jensen is stung by his accusatory tone. “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” he says.

Jared shrugs, a stubborn tension about his mouth. “Whatever. Forget I said anything.” He turns slightly away from Jensen and stares out the window.

The silence in the cab is distinctly uncomfortable for a few minutes as they rolls down the highway. Jensen feels inexplicably guilty, like he should apologize to Jared. But he doesn’t even know what he’d be apologizing for. Finally he settles on making a comment about some stupid reality show they watched a couple of weeks ago.

Jared accepts the peace offering and by the time they’re manhandling the couch up the stairs to Jared’s apartment, it seems like everything’s back to normal.

 

~*~

It’s a busy day at the Java Script and Steve is sure he’s walked five miles back and forth across the relatively small interior. Jared came in a couple of hours ago with a morose expression that looked out of place on his usually sunny face. He ordered his usual cardiac arrest in a cup with whipped cream and sprinkles and took up residence in one of the most isolated corners of the shop.

Steve’s been watching him with concern for most of the afternoon, but he’s honestly been too swamped to go over and talk to his friend. Finally, business dies down enough that Sophia can handle it on her own. Steve makes a beeline for Jared’s corner. He pulls a chair right up in front of Jared, who looks up, seeming startled to be faced with another human being.

“So, you want to tell me what’s got you looking like somebody ran over your puppy?” he asks.

“Umm?” Jared replies.

“Oh, come on, Jared. You’ve been camped out here for over two hours and all you’ve done is look at your cell phone and put it away about a million times.” Steve pauses, then asks, “Is this about Jensen?”

Jared’s bewildered expression changes to a sullen glare. “No. Not everything is about Jensen, okay?”

Steve sighs, feeling like an ass. “Sorry, man. I just thought—“

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Jared says, his expression softening.

“Well then, what’s going on?”

Jared eyes slide away. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles.

Steve just stares until Jared is forced to meet his eyes again. “It’s clearly _something_ , so why don’t you just go ahead and tell me about it and save us both the runaround?”

A wry smile lights Jared’s face for a second. “Yeah, all right.”

Steve waits expectantly and Jared sighs and shifts in his seat. Finally, he says, “It’s my mom’s birthday.”

Steve cocks his head in confusion. He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Umm, okay?” When Jared doesn’t volunteer any further information, he wracks his brain. “Did you forget to send her a present or something?”

“No.”

“Well, the day’s not over, so I know you didn’t forget to call her.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t call her? Why?”

Jared’s silent a long time. Steve’s almost decided to prod him again when he speaks so softly Steve has to strain to catch the words. “My parents kicked me out. And, um, disowned me. When I told them I was gay.”

Something tightens in Steve’s chest. He places a hand on Jared’s arm, trying to offer comfort. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Jared shrugs like it doesn’t matter, but his eyes tell the real story. “I knew they would. Or, I was pretty sure anyway. That’s why I didn’t tell them till I already had a job and an apartment here.”

Now that he’s started talking, it’s like the floodgates are open. Steve listens, his heart breaking for Jared. This is Texas and it’s not like his story is that unusual, but that doesn’t make it any less awful. Steve’s own parents are liberal Californians and he can’t imagine what it must be like to have the people who raised you hate you just because of who you love.

“I hoped maybe they’d surprise me, but I didn’t want to take a chance. And I was right. I just couldn’t keep it a secret anymore, you know? I knew since I was fifteen or so. All my friends knew. Even Jeff and Megan – my brother and sister – knew. Jeff helped me move my stuff up here, but I don’t wanna cause trouble for either of them with our parents. So I figure I’ll just disappear. It’s for the best.”

Jared looks at him with sad eyes, seeming very young.

“God, Jay,” Steve says softly, “I’m sorry.”

Another shrug.

“Listen, this is your family now, okay?”

“Steve, you barely know me.”

Steve shakes his head. “Sometimes that doesn’t matter.”

Jared nods, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “Thank you.”

 

~*~

Jensen is fiddling absently with his drumsticks, sitting next to Chris on the couch in the basement. Steve asked them to show up early to practice, said it was something about Jared, but so far he’s just pacing and looking really upset.

“Steve,” he says carefully, drawing out the single syllable, “You have to actually tell us what the problem is before we can talk about it.”

Steve stops pacing and looks at him for a long moment. Finally he sighs. “It’s Jared. He’s not—he’s not—“ He starts pacing again.

“He’s not what?” Chris asks, clutching the arm of the couch and sounding like he’s at the end of his rope.

Steve throws up his hands. “He’s not sparkly anymore!”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “Did you just describe our 6’4” bass player with arms the size of tree trunks as ‘sparkly?’”

Steve glares at his boyfriend. “No, I said he’s _not_ sparkly. We have to do something!”

“Okay, first of all, like five fewer espressos for you tomorrow. Secondly, it’s not like we have any idea what’s wrong.” Steve gets a shifty look on his face and Chris raises an eyebrow. “You _know_ what’s wrong?”

Steve’s shoulders slump. “Yeah, but it’s not really my place to tell you.”

“Then how are we supposed to fix it?”

“We can’t. We just need to get his mind off it or something.”

“Well, shit. That’s easy enough. We’ll just take him out and buy him shots ‘till he can’t tell which way is up. That’ll be plenty distracting.”

Steve eyes Chris skeptically. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“Why not? He tell you he’s an alcoholic or something?”

“Dude, no! Nothing like that.”

“Then it’s a problem that liquor can solve. At least for tonight.” Chris looks over at Jensen, who has been watching the back and forth and keeping his mouth shut. “What do you say, Jen? Up for ditching practice and hitting the bar?”

And now that Jensen stops to think about it, he realizes he hasn’t gone out to the bars in weeks. Maybe longer. Good enough reason as any to agree. Not that he’s particularly invested in Steve’s plan to cheer Jared up. Honestly, the guy is far too cheery as it is. He’s just really into the liquor portion of the plan. And hey, if he’s lucky maybe he’ll find a hot guy who bats for the home team while he’s at it. “Sure, that’s cool.”

When Jared arrived a few minutes later, Chris shoves him right back out the door. “Change of plans. We’re going out.”

Jared shoots him a confused look as he’s shoved up the basement steps. “What about practice?”

“Playing hooky,” Steve chimes in helpfully.

Jensen suppresses a laugh and Jared’s bewildered expression.

It’s pretty early by bar standards when they get to one of Chris’ favorite dives, but there’s a pretty good crowd already. They snag a table and a pitcher of beer and just shoot the shit for a couple of hours. Jared seems all right to Jensen, if a bit more subdued than usual. He hopes this means Chris’ plan was a good one. Not that he was worried, because he wasn’t.

As they sit and empty one pitcher of beer and then another the bar fills up around them. Jensen gets up to go to the bathroom. On his way back he catches a guy at the bar giving him the once over. He returns the look, a cocky smirk settling on his lips out of habit. Looks like it’s his lucky night.

He snags an empty stool next to the guy. “Hey, buy you a drink?” he says.

The guy smiles not-at-all innocently. “Sure.”

Jensen settles into the flirting easily. He’s about to suggest they go “someplace quieter” when suddenly Chris shoves his way in between Jensen and his soon-to-be conquest.

“Umm, Chris?” he asks, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Yeah, Jen?” Chris responds, not moving.

“We were kind of in the middle of something.”

“No we weren’t.” Chris says, then turns to signal the bartender. “Can we get another pitcher?”

“Not you and me, Chris. Me and—“ damn it, he’s forgotten the guy’s name already.

“Luke,” the guy supplies, looking annoyed.

“Right, Luke. So, if you don’t mind,” he trails off.

“Oh, yeah, sure. No problem,” Chris says, but makes no move to take the pitcher that the bartender just placed in front of him. “So, I was thinking, you remember that new song I played for you last week? I think we really need to clean up the bridge.”

Jensen takes a deep, calming breath. “That’s great, Chris, and I’d be happy to work on it. Later.”

“Right, so I think if we went to C instead of D from the G it would really give it a different feel.”

Jensen looks over towards their table, hoping for some help. Jared is staring dejectedly at the table, Steve is looking straight at him with an expression like he just heard Jensen enjoys drowning kittens, and there’s still a half-full pitcher of beer on the table. He sighs.

Honestly, one night stands take an awful lot of effort. It’s been a long week and his friends are acting really weird. Jensen figures he can hook up with somebody next weekend just as easily. “Listen, Luke, I’ll catch you later, okay?”

Luke looks at him like he’s grown a third eye. “Umm, okay.”

Jensen follows Chris back to their table and the tension lifts noticeably. Steve goes back to drinking his beer and groping his boyfriend, acting for all the world like the weirdness never happened. Jared’s still a little twitchy, but he offers Jensen a small smile he can’t quite decipher. Everyone is on crack, he decides and has another beer.

 

~*~

Allie has been bugging Jensen about meeting his other friends.

“I feel like the friend outcast!” she complains.

“We’re office buddies,” Jensen reminds her, not unkindly.

“Yeah, which means friends!”

“Office friends.”

She sighs dramatically. “You’re ashamed of me! That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want your cool friends to meet me.”

“No, that’s not it,” he says, starting to feel frustrated.

“Okay, then when can I meet them?”

Jensen waves a little white flag of surrender in his mind.

“Fine, fine. How ‘bout Saturday?”

“Absolutely. Name a place and I’ll be there!”

 

~*~

Steve does a double take when Jensen walks into the Java Script with a girl. He walks up to them, looking rather awkward. The girl, however, looks delighted.

“Hey, guys,” Jensen says.

Steve’s sitting with Jared and Chris. They’ve just been waiting for Jensen for their semi-regular Saturday night Java Script hangout.

“Hey, Jensen,” Chris says, “Who’s your friend?”

There’s an edge of hostility in Chris’ voice and Steve cringes inwardly. He gets Chris’ protectiveness, but at the same time he’s always trying to pounce on totally innocent people just for infringing on Jensen’s personal bubble.

“This is Allison. We work together.”

She sketches a wave beside him. “Call me Allie,” she says, still smiling, but starting to look slightly uncomfortable when Chris’ forbidding expression doesn’t dissipate.

Steve glances around and is startled to see that Jared has joined Chris with the scowling. He sighs. Clearly it’s up to him to show some manners to the poor girl who’s done nothing wrong other than show up with Jensen.

He holds out a hand to shake. “Hey, I’m Steve. Can I get you a drink?”

She darts a glance at Chris and Jared. “You have anything stronger than coffee?” she asks softly.

Steve chuckles. “I think what you need is the Java Script’s specialty. One Irish Coffee coming right up!”

She looks ridiculously grateful. “Thanks. Umm, are they always like that?”

Steve shrugs. “Well, Chris is. I don’t know what’s up with Jared, though.”

He realizes that’s a lie the second it leaves his mouth. Jared is still completely infatuated with Jensen, even if he’s managed to conceal that from the man himself, and they’ve been stuck in friends gear going nowhere fast for months now. He passes behind Jared’s chair on his way to get Allie’s drink and drops down to whisper in his ear. “He’s gay, you idiot. And if you don’t screw up he might even be gay for you. So, play nice.”

Jared jumps a little and whips his head around to face Steve. He opens his mouth to say something, but Steve shakes his head and keeps on walking. By the time Steve gets back to the table, Jared has left Chris alone on the scowling brigade and is tentatively engaging Allie in conversation.

As it turns out, they share a love of hyperactivity and talking like ferrets on speed. That lessens the conversational burden on everyone else considerably and Steve, Jensen, and Chris look on like it’s a fast paced ping pong match for a little while.

Steve is relieved to have averted a catastrophe of indeterminate nature. Jensen’s gone from looking terrified to almost relaxed and Chris seems to have decided that this girl isn’t Satan’s little sister, so all in all Steve counts the night a success. As everyone is standing and stretching, preparing to go home, he casually invites Allie to come by again sometime. Jared nods enthusiastically and after a moment, Chris shrugs casually.

“Sure, yeah,” he says.

Steve grins at that, fully prepared to reward his boyfriend properly for his restraint.  


 

~*~

It’s Friday night and Jensen is at Jared’s, of course. He’s not quite sure why he keeps coming. Being around Jared make him feel twitchy and restless, like he doesn’t fit right in his skin. He doesn’t like it except that, obscurely, he kind of does. He’s not really comfortable admitting that to himself, so he pushes the thought away.

Tonight they’re not watching sports _or_ playing video games. They’re watching the premiere of the 875th cycle of _America’s Next Top Model._ Jensen’s eyebrows hit his hairline when Jared announces his plan.

“Seriously, Jay?”

Jared looks at him reproachfully. “Jensen, Jensen, Jensen,” he intones, shaking his head, “You call yourself a gay man and you don’t know the wonders of Tyra and her minions?”

Jensen tries the single eyebrow raise, but Jared just keeps giving him this baleful look. He sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine, supermodel wannabes it is.”

A thousand-watt grin lights Jared’s face. “Awesome! I’ll make the popcorn.”

Jensen spends more time watching Jared than the TV. He tells himself this is because anything would be more amusing than Tyra Banks telling prepubescent girls how to be models, but really he just likes watching Jared. That fact is getting harder and harder to ignore.  
  
Sure, Jared is gorgeous. But Jensen has fucked a lot of gorgeous guys. It’s not just that. Jared is funny and caring and talented. And he’s smart – way smarter than most people give him credit for because of that whole goofy, hyper puppy thing. But he is, and the diploma from UT San Antonio with Magna Cum Laude scrawled across it backs up Jensen’s assertion.

Steve said something recently about Jared’s family being less than supportive. Said they should pick up the slack. He wouldn’t give any more details than that - it wasn’t his place, but Jensen figures it probably has something to do with Jared being gay. Even with all his problems, he’s glad he has parents who love him for who he is.

Of course, Steve had really meant he and Chris should pick up the slack, because nobody expected Jensen to take care of anybody but himself. He knows it’s true. Hell, half the time he can’t even manage that, but for Jared, he wishes he could.

_Oh, god. I’m in love with him._

The thought pops into his mind uninvited and stops Jensen cold. It’s not true. It can’t be true. Except that it is. Without warning Jensen is suddenly having trouble getting a full breath. He feels the blood rushing to his head. Jared is looking at him with concern. His mouth is moving, but Jensen can’t understand the words. That’s the last thing he remembers before blacking out.

 


	4. Part 3

Chris is in the living room with Steve and they’re fiddling with guitar riffs when his cell phone rings. He fumbles for a minute with the guitar, trying to keep it from falling over. He nearly misses the call, but manages to flip his phone open on the last ring without checking to see who’s calling.

“Hello?”

“Chris. You gotta get over here right now.”

“Jared?” Chris says, his heart rate picking up at his panicked tone.

“It’s Jensen. Something happened.”

Chris stands slowly, the world falling out from under him. “What – exactly – happened?” he asks, deadly calm.

“I don’t know, man. He was fine and then he started hyperventilating and passed out. I already called 911, but get over here.”

“I’m on my way.”

He snaps the phone shut and heads for the door.

“What’s going on?”

Steve’s voice surprises him. He’d forgotten his presence in his panic. “It’s Jensen. Come on.”

Steve lays his guitar down and slips his shoes on. “Gimme the keys,” he says, “You don’t need to be driving.”

Chris clenches his jaw and shakes his head, the need to get to Jensen _right now_ overwhelming all other thoughts. He tries to head for the door, but Steve’s blocking his way, holding out his hand and staring at him calmly. He’s almost ready to start a fight, but the tiny sliver of rationality he has left tells him that Steve’s right. Doesn’t mean he has to be gracious about it. He slaps the keys into Steve’s palm with a scowl.

They don’t speak for the entire drive and Chris’ feeling of impending doom is not helped at all by the ambulance in the parking lot of Jared’s complex. He jumps out of the car the second it stops moving and takes the stairs two at a time.

He hammers on the door. “Jared! Open up!”

Jared flings the door open in seconds. “Oh, thank God you’re here.”

Chris barely hears him as he shoves past and takes in the scene inside the apartment. Jensen is on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. He’s conscious – relief floods through Chris at that – but looks pretty out of it as the paramedics check him over.

“Jen, what happened? Are you all right?” He crosses to the couch as Jensen looks up at him.

“I’m fine,” he whispers, none too convincingly.

“Bullshit. The paramedics aren’t here ‘cause you’re fine.” Chris looks at them. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s doing all right now. It looks like he had a panic attack, but he should be fine if he gets some rest and takes it easy tonight.”

“A panic attack?” Chris looks back to Jensen. “Why?”

Jensen shrugs, his face drawn. His eyes flick momentarily over Chris’ shoulder before he resolutely stares at his lap, a flush rising on his face. Chris looks behind him and his eyes crash into Jared’s. He looks back at Jensen, cold rage filling him.

“Right. Okay, then.”

Chris turns around and goes to stand with Steve.

Steve wraps his arms around Chris’ shoulders, but Chris doesn’t relax against him. His whole body is thrumming with the need to do violence. Now.

Steve whispered in his ear. “You jumping to conclusions, babe?”

Chris clenches his jaw. “Not jumping,” he mutters back.

Steve makes a skeptical noise. “Whatever you say.”

They stay like that and Chris waits with saintly patience for the paramedics to finish their examination and pack up their things.

The click of the door closing behind them seems to echo through the silence of the apartment. Chris counts a slow ten, then does it again. Carefully he turns to Jared. He holds his voice under careful control when he speaks.

“What did you do?”

Jared eyes widen in hurt and confusion. “What? Nothing!”

“Yeah, right. Tell me another one. Seven years he’s fine, then suddenly he needs paramedics and he just _happens_ to be at your place? Now I’m gonna ask you one more time. What. Did. You. Do?” Chris is right up in Jared’s face without really remembering how he got there. He punctuates his last question with sharp pokes to Jared’s chest.

Jared back up, palms out in front of him. “Whoah, man. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t _do_ anything. We were just watching TV.”

Steve’s right behind Chris, laying a placating hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Chris. Leave it alone.”

Chris shrugs him off. “No. No, I won’t leave it alone.” He advances on Jared again. “Did you touch him? Did you hurt him?”

“No! Chris, man, you know me better than that.”

“Do I?”

He’s raising his fists, fully prepared to take on all six feet infinity of Jared to defend Jensen.

“Chris.” Jensen’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the angry noise in his head. He turns to the couch. Guilt fills him when he takes in Jensen’s wide eyes and pale skin. “He didn’t do anything to me. Leave him alone.”

Chris nods, deflating. “Right. Sorry.” He looks from Jensen to Jared, trying to convey his apology to both of them.

“Can we go home now?” Jensen asks.

“Yeah.”

Jared watches them maneuver Jensen up off the couch and to the door silently. He nods to them as they leave, his eyes shuttered.

Steve tries a little small talk in the car, but falls silent quickly when Chris and Jensen don’t respond. When they get home, Chris walks Jensen into his room.

“You want me to hang out tonight?”

Jensen shakes his head. “No. I really just want to be alone.”

Chris nods. “Okay. Get some rest.” He eases out of the room, shutting the door silently behind him.

Steve’s waiting for him in the living room. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah. Or he will be anyway.”

“So what was that tonight?”

Chris sighs and glances back at Jensen’s door. “Let’s talk about it in the bedroom, okay? I mean, if you’re staying.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Of course I am. Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

They undress and slip under the sheets. Chris curls up against Steve and lays his head on his chest. He listens to Steve’s heartbeat for a little while, trying to come up with a way to explain his behavior. Steve doesn’t push him to speak, just strokes his hair absently. Waiting.

“I think I pushed him into this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just – Jared seemed different and I thought maybe Jen would – maybe he could get better.”

“Jared’s a good guy. He likes Jensen.”

“Yeah.” They’re silent a long time. Finally Chris speaks again. “He’s never going to get better, is he?”

Another silence. Chris can tell that Steve is trying to figure out what to say.

“Well, I wouldn’t give up hope just yet. And, Chris. None of this is your fault, okay?”

“But—“

“No buts. Jensen is incredibly lucky to have you. You’re loyal to a fault and I know you would never do anything to hurt him. And hopefully he will get better one of these days, but even if he doesn’t,” Steve lifts Chris’ face to meet his eyes, “Even if he doesn’t, you’ll still love him. And I’ll still love you.”

Well there’s really nothing to do after that but climb up on top of Steve, press him down into the mattress and kiss him breathless. In moments Steve is moaning up into his mouth. Chris swallows every little sound, savoring the familiar taste of them.

He pulls away from Steve’s lips and kisses down the well-traveled landscape of his body, stopping at all the sensitive places that he knows will make his lover shiver and squirm. The hollow under his jaw, the peak of his collar bone. He licks and suckles on nipple and then the other while running his fingers feather-light up and down Steve’s arms.

Chris pauses to slide Steve’s boxers off, then places a gentle bite on one hipbone before addressing his cock, which is, by now, standing proudly at attention. He makes a few broad strokes with his tongue, then takes Steve in as far as he can. Steve thrusts shallowly into his mouth and Chris can feel him shaking with the effort of control.

He pulls off and crawls back up to kiss Steve again. Chris mumbles against his lips. “Want you inside. Now.”

Steve rolls them over and now he’s making quick work of Chris boxers and reaching for the lube on the nightstand. Chris gasps when the first finger slides into him, like always. Steve works him open efficiently, with the ease of long practice.

Chris groans as Steve slides into him slowly, sweat shining on his forehead from the effort of holding back. When he’s all the way in, he pauses, his hair falling around his face, his eyes only just far away enough to focus on. Chris kisses him briefly.

“Want it hard,” he whispers, “Want to feel you.”

Steve groans low in his throat and drops his head onto Chris’ shoulder. Then he complies, pulling back and thrusting hard. He sets up a rhythm that Chris’ matches eagerly. Steve’s brushing against his prostate on nearly every thrust and that’s more than enough to send the last of his rational thoughts skittering off in every direction.

Steve wraps a hand around his cock and pulls hard in time with his thrusts. Another minute or two and that’s all she wrote for both of them. Chris comes in spurts up between them, coating Steve’s hand and both their chests, as he feels Steve fill him up.

Steve collapses on his chest for a moment before rolling them both to the side and gathering Chris against his chest. “We should clean up,” he mumbles into Chris’ hair.

“Later,” Chris says, feeling far too bonelessly satisfied to move.

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Yeah, later.”

“Love you.”

“Always.”

~*~

Jensen is woken by the sun stabbing him in the eye. He moans and burrows under the covers, trying to escape the light. His first thought is that he feels like he’s been run over by a truck, then backed over, then run over again. His second thought is—

“Shit! I’m late!”

He jumps out of bed, wondering frantically why his alarm didn’t go off. He looks at the offending time piece and notes with horror that it’s nearly noon. He’s going to get fired and end up living on the street. And why hasn’t the office called? Even if he slept through his alarm, surely he would have heard the phone. He spins around, intending to sprint to the closet and throw on the first thing he pulls out.

That’s when he sees Chris standing in the doorway with two cups of coffee, one cradled against his chest, the other held out temptingly to Jensen.

“I called your office to let them know you were sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Jensen, you had a panic attack and paramedics had to come save you. Did you want me to tell them that?”

Oh. Right. He sort of forgot that part until Chris just brought it up. Well, not forgot _exactly_. It just hadn’t registered in his conscious mind yet. “No, I guess not.”

“We need to talk about this.”

Jensen doesn’t talk about things. Not real things. He even slides by with a minimum of sincerity in his quarterly check-in appointments with his therapist. Chris knows this. Okay, not the part about the therapist, but about the talking. He knows. “I’m fine.”

“Jen.”

Boy, his best friend can pack a lot of guilt trip into a single syllable. “Coffee,” he insists, avoiding giving an actual answer.

Chris sighs and nods, handing him the cup. He takes it and savors the tingle that always accompanies his first sip of caffeine in the morning. He crawls back into bed and props himself up against the headboard, knees tucked under him. Chris perches on the end of the bed, nursing his own cup.

Jensen drains the mug and stares into its ceramic depths, really not wanting to talk about what Chris wants to talk about.

“Jensen.”

He looks up, reluctantly meeting Chris’ eyes. “Yeah?”

“What happened last night?”

“Nothing.” He looks down again, feeling the weight of his friend’s stare. “Okay, something,” he relents.

Chris chokes out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I’m totally enlightened now.”

The corner of Jensen mouth twitches upward for an instant. He studies the mug for a couple minutes, trying to make his thoughts come out as words without panicking again.

Chris waits patiently.

“It’s just . . . Jared.”

Jensen sees Chris’ hackles go up instantly. “ _Did_ he do something to you?”

He shakes his head. “No. Calm down, Chris. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then _what_?”

Jensen feels a slight tightening in his chest that reminds him of last night. He breathes in and out methodically to stave off the panic. Seven on the inhale, hold seven, exhale seven. Something he picked up from one of his many therapists or counselors. When he’s sure he’s not going to do a repeat performance, he opens his mouth to speak.

“I’m in love with him.”

He says it so softly he wonders if Chris heard him, but the sharp intake of breath gives him his answer.

“And last night?”

“I realized it.”

“Okay, well.” Chris processes for a minute while Jensen keeps practicing his controlled breathing. Having the words out in the world is strange and frightening.

“So what do you want to do about that?”

Jensen shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Really?”

“I don’t do this.”

“Yeah, I know, but Jen—“ Chris breaks off, a pained look on his face, seeming reluctant to say what he’s thinking.

“Just say it. I’m not gonna break, Chris.”

“That’s just the thing, though. I’m always afraid you will. Things were so bad after—I, um—after what happened. And I get it. I get that it was horrible. But are you going to let one awful thing fuck up the rest of your life? Because if you are, then he wins, Jen. I don’t want him to win. Do you?”

Chris pauses, looking like he’s waiting for a punch. Jensen’s far to shocked to make a sound and – he pokes at his reactions to be sure – he’s not actually angry. When immediate retribution isn’t forthcoming, Chris continues.

“Jared’s a good guy, Jensen. He’s been trying so hard for you, although I doubt you noticed. Do you think you could give it a try with him?”

Jensen thinks about that. And he thinks about his life for the past ten years. Then he comes to a conclusion.

~*~

Jared didn’t sleep at all last night. He tried – for like five minutes just as the sun was creeping over the horizon – but mostly he worried and watched TV without seeing. He wants to check on Jensen, but he’s pretty sure Chris will kill him if he gets within thirty feet of him.

In the early hours of the morning he cleaned up the mess the paramedics made, washed the dishes he and Jensen used for chips and salsa last night and barely restrained himself from vacuuming the already pristine carpet. When he has some free mental space he’s really going to worry about this new house cleaning tick he’s developed.

Sometime around midmorning he throws up his hands and goes out for a long run to burn off some of the excess nervous energy in his system. He gets back and makes coffee and still feels twitchy and bone-weary at the same time.

He throws caution to the wind and calls Jensen’s office, only to be told he’s out for the day. That does nothing for his worry. He paces around indecisively, plunks himself down on the couch and tries to watch something on TLC, then paces some more.

It’s late afternoon when he finally decides that Chris can kick his ass if he wants to. He needs to see Jensen. Just as he grabs his keys, there’s a soft knock on the door. He’s puzzled as to who would be coming to see him. He doesn’t really know a lot of people besides Chris, Steve, and Jensen.

He pulls the door open and gapes when he sees Jensen standing there.

“Hey.”

“Oh my God, are you okay? I’ve been so worried.” Jared reaches out a hand to touch Jensen – make sure he’s real and alive and standing in front of him – but snatches it back just in time, remembering Chris’ freak out last night. “Uh, sorry. Chris isn’t here is he? ‘Cause I don’t really feel like dying today.” He leans forward to peer around the edges of the door.

Jensen’s lips twitch like he wants to smile at that. “No.”

“Okay, good.”

Jensen shuffles a bit on the welcome mat. “Umm, I think we need to talk,” he says.

Jared nods. “Yeah. Come in.”

They move awkwardly around each other, unsure and skittish.

“You want to sit?” Jared asks, gesturing at the couch.

“Yeah, yeah.”

They settle, Jared on one end, Jensen curled protectively into the other.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Jensen exhales slowly and Jared waits.

“There’s, uh, some things I need to tell you. I’ve never told anyone else this – um, except my therapist. I mean, people know. Chris, my parents. But I’ve never had to _tell_ anyone.

Jared nods, feeling the weight of Jensen’s trust. “Okay.”

Jensen stares at his knees, but Jared can tell he’s seeing something else entirely. He’s silent for a little while. When he starts speaking, it’s like he’s not even talking to Jared. His voice is low and rhythmic, like he’s telling the story as it plays out in front of his eyes.

“My dad had this roommate in college. The guy got obsessed with him. He was convinced they were meant to be together. So he didn’t take it too well when my dad married my mom. By that time he’d already been in and out of a couple of mental institutions. My dad cut off contact with him and they thought that was the end of it.

“But it turns out he was still stalking them. When I was born he snuck into the hospital. Got all the way into her room and started talking crazy, threatening her and me. Security dragged him out of there pretty fast. My dad wanted him arrested, but he hadn’t actually done anything they could press charges for, so the police couldn’t help much. They got a restraining order, but that’s it.

“My mom and dad were scared he was gonna come back, so they moved from California to Texas. No forwarding address. And it seemed like it worked. They never heard from him again and they never told me any of this. Until I turned fifteen.”

Jensen breaks out of his reverie and looks up at Jared. His eyes are wide, dark, and frightened. He seems to be searching for something.

“It’s okay,” Jared says, “You can tell me.” Again he wants to reach out and touch, but instinct tells him this would be a very bad idea.

Jensen nods and breaks eye contact again.

“On my fifteenth birthday, I went out with Chris and some of our other friends. Uh, we went bowling and then we just ran around town for a few hours. There’s not a lot to do around here. Just being out way too late was pretty big excitement.

“We were messing around, playing some stupid game I don’t even remember. I got separated from the others.”

He trails off, his breathing started to come short and shallow.

“Hey, Jensen. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Jared says, not wanting a repeat of the night before.

That seems to focus him. He shakes his head. “No. I can do this.”

He takes a couple of deep breaths and continues.

“Next thing I know I’m being dragged into this alley. I thought it was my friends at first. I yelled for them to let me go. Then this dirty hand came over my mouth and he told me to shut up or he’d kill me.”

Tears streak down Jensen’s face and he swallows convulsively. Jared feels like he’s frozen, waiting for the rest of the story.

“Then he, uh—he—“ Jensen breaks off with a wordless cry and jumps up. “I can’t do this,” he says, like he doesn’t intend for Jared to hear. He heads for the door with tense, jerky steps.

“Jensen, wait! Please,” Jared calls and doesn’t care that he’s begging.

Jensen turns and backs up against the door like he wants to be sure of his escape route. He wraps his arms around himself protectively and Jared is intensely aware of how fragile he is, how one word out of place might shatter him.

“I’m sorry, Jared. I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

Jared sees the shutters come down in Jensen’s eyes. It’s the same look he had the first time they met, like the lights are on, but no one’s home. But this time it doesn’t quite fit. Jared can see the anguish underneath.

“If not now, then when?”

Jensen shakes his head. “I don’t know. Never?” His eyes beg Jared to give him an out.

Jared steels his resolve. “Jensen, no. Let me help you. Please?”

Jensen presses back against the door like he’s trying to tunnel out with his shoulder blades. His eyes dart wildly, looking at everything but Jared. Then he sighs and eases away from the door. “Okay.”

They sit back down and Jensen curls even more tightly into himself. Jared watches him and Jensen watches a darkened alley. When he speaks again, his voice is high and strained, like a guitar string on the verge of snapping.

“The guy – he had this crazy look in his eyes. And this dirty, stringy hair. He said I looked just like him. My dad, I guess. Then he—“ Jensen breaks off to steady his breathing. Then he squeezes his eyes shut and speaks like he’s ripping off a band aid. “He pushed me down and made me suck his cock and then he fucked me and then he left me laying in that alley.”

Jared sucks in a breath through his teeth, horrified. Jensen opens his eyes and just stares at him with wide eyes. For a moment, Jared’s frozen. He doesn’t know what the right thing to do is. What single action can make a decade of misery go away.

Then he realizes that nothing can do that and there’s only one thing he can do.

“Jen,” he whispers. He can’t help it. He moves across the couch and wraps Jensen up in his arms.

Jensen stiffens for a moment and Jared’s about to pull back and apologize. Then Jensen’s arms come up and wrap around his neck and hold him there. Sobs wrack his body as Jared holds him. He murmurs comforting nonsense and rubs up and down Jensen’s back.

Jared can’t even comprehend that kind of awful. He doesn’t even know where to start with making it better. Jensen’s hands are fisted in the collar of his shirt and tears soak through the fabric, searing his skin where they touch. His whole body shakes under Jared’s hands and Jared feels tears of his own sliding down his cheeks. He keeps holding Jensen until the sobs turn to little hiccupping sniffles. Finally Jensen pulls away, his eyes sliding off of Jared’s.

“Tissues?”

Jensen nods. Eventually he speaks again, his voice rough. “They caught him in a bar a couple blocks away. He confessed. It was barely even a trial. Life without parole. But after that I was pretty messed up. Started drinking and getting into trouble and skipping school. I tried to kill myself. Um, a couple of times.

“My parents got me into therapy. They sent me away to this place for the real hard cases for a couple of months. That got me straightened out. I mean, sort of. I stopped trying to kill myself. Quit most of the self-destructive behavior. But I could never _really_ deal.

“I convinced my therapists that I could, but I just shut everything out. I guess I thought if I kept everybody at arm’s length, I was safe.”

Jensen meets Jared’s eyes with an intense stare. “I don’t get close to people, Jared. I don’t have strong feeling about _anything_. I go to work, and I play in the band, and I fuck any guy who’s willing, but only once. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than a day.

“And then you come along and crash through all my defenses without even _trying_ —I was scared. I thought if I slept with you it would prove you were just like any other guy. But you weren’t and that just made it worse and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t know what to do. Can you understand that?”

Jared can. Now that he has all the horrible details he really can. He nods, not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat.

Jensen looks at him with shining eyes. His long lashes are wet with tears and the freckles across his cheeks stand out in stark relief. Jared takes in these tiny details and imprints them on his memory. There’s something momentous about this moment that makes him pay attention, like’s he’s going to want to remember everything about it. When Jensen speaks, he’s proven absolutely right. “I am _so_ tired of being scared, Jay. I want to stop being too afraid of everything to live my life. I just want to be happy. And you make me happy. Jared Padalecki, I’m in love with you.”

Tears are streaking down Jared’s face again and he grins so wide he’s worried his face might crack. “Jensen Ackles, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. Can I please kiss you now?”

He leans forward and is a bit disconcerted when Jensen leans back and puts a hand up between them.

“I really, _really_ want you to, but I’ve, uh, never done it before.”

Jared blinks. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”

Jensen shakes his head and looks away, shy again. “I hadn’t before – you know – before. It was like the one thing I could keep for myself, you know?”

“That makes sense. But you want to? Now?”

Jensen nods.

“Okay, then.”

Jared moves in slowly. Jensen stares at him intently. He angles his head a bit, but at the last second Jensen shifts that way too and they bump noses.

Jensen ducks his head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

Jared shakes his head, smiling softly. “It’s all right.”

He gently tips Jensen’s head up with a finger under his chin. He leans forward again, holding Jensen still. Their lips meet. It’s not the world’s most amazing kiss. It’s kind of awkward, as first kisses tend to be, but Jared kind of thinks time stops anyway. Because it’s Jensen. He’s kissing Jensen, who has never kissed anyone else before him and that really is the best thing in the world.

A hundred years later they pull back. Jensen looks at him with eyes Jared has never seen before.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. So, how was it?”

“It was like waking up.”

Obviously, the only appropriate response to that is to kiss Jensen again.

Some time later they’re flushed and breathless and rather less vertical than they’d started out. Jared catches Jensen stifling a yawn between kisses and pulls back.

“Hey, it’s been a long day,” he says, “You wanna maybe go to bed?”

Jensen goes still against him and Jared realizes how that might come across.

“I mean, to sleep,” he amends quickly.

Jensen smiles, soft and relaxed. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

They make their way to the bedroom and strip down to just boxers before flicking off the light and crawling under the covers. Jensen holds himself still, a few inches of space between them until Jared takes a hold of his wrist gently.

“Hey, get over here,” he says and Jensen comes willingly, cuddling into his side and tucking his head against Jared’s shoulder. Jared grins into the darkness, thinking that he has never been as happy as he is right now and praying to whatever higher power may be listening that it will last.

~*~

Jensen feels a momentary surge of panic when he wakes up to find himself held against a broad chest by ridiculously muscular arms. Then he remembers. Jared. He relaxes. It’s sometime past one in the morning if the blurry numbers of the clock are anything to go by.

He’s almost drifted back to sleep when the shrill ringing of his cell phone cuts through the silence of the bedroom. He squirms out of Jared’s arms and tries to figure out where his jeans hit the floor. He finds them and yanks his phone out on the last ring.

“Hey, Chris.”

Jared, obviously awake by now, turns on a lamp. He blinks at Jensen, sprawled next to his discarded jeans on the floor. Jensen shoots him a smile and watches the warmth fill Jared’s eyes.

“Jensen, where the hell are you? It’s the middle of the night!”

“Jared’s?”

“Still?” Chris is silent for a moment and then asks, “Did you—?”

Jensen’s brain takes a moment to catch up. “Did I—? Oh! Oh, no! No, no, no! Absolutely not. Um. Yet?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, but _what_?”

“I, um, took your advice.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Wow. This is big, Jen.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. We’ll talk.”

“Yeah. Bye, Chris.”

Jensen flips the phone shut and climbs back into the warm bed.

“What advice was that?” Jared asks.

“Hmm?” Jensen says as he curls up against Jared, “Oh. He told me I should give you a chance.”

Jensen feels Jared grin against his temple. “Remind me to buy that man something expensive.”

~*~

Jared wakes up before Jensen in the morning. He lies very still, savoring the moment. Jensen is warm and relaxed in his arms, drooling a bit on Jared’s shoulder. Then he stirs awake and lifts his head. His hair is sticking up in every direction and he looks adorably disheveled.

“Morning,” he says, his voice gruff with sleep and one eye cracked open.

“Morning,” Jared responds, unable to suppress a grin, “How’d you sleep?”

“Awesome,” Jensen answers, flopping back against the pillow, “Coffee?”

Jared chuckles. “Sure, I’ll make some.”

“Thank you,” Jensen says with the reverent tone of the truly addicted.

A couple of teeth brushings and cups of coffee later, they’re back in bed, propped up against the headboard. Jared leans over and brushes his lips lightly across Jensen’s.

“Good morning,” he says again.

“It really is,” Jensen answers.

They kiss again, deeper. It’s not long before they’re clutching at each other and sliding down to the mattress. Jensen breathes in sharply when Jared’s quickly hardening cock slides against his hip. Jared pulls back immediately.

“Is this—is it okay?” he asks, not wanting to rush anything.

Jensen tugs him back down, lifting his hips so that Jared can clearly feel that he’s not alone in his enthusiasm.

“So much more than okay,” he says, before drawing Jared into another kiss.

Jared pulls away and kisses up the center of Jensen’s chest, running his hands over the firm muscles there. He drops a kiss on each eyelid and one on the tip of Jensen’s nose. That makes Jensen laugh. It might even be called a giggle. Jared thinks he knows how game show contestants feel when they win something really big and shiny.

“You are so beautiful, you know that?”

“You’re crazy, Jay.”

“So I’ve been told, but that doesn’t make me wrong.”

Jensen laughs again, then he presses his lips together, suddenly tentative.

“Do you want to—um. You can—you can top. You know, if you want,” he says.

Jared stares. “Jensen, are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“That doesn’t sounds sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Look, Jen. You don’t have to do this. I’m perfectly happy to bottom. Or we don’t even have to do that. There are lots of other things we can do.”

“Jared, I want to. This is just one more thing he took from me and I want it back. With you.”

Jared nods decisively. “We’ll go slow. If you want to stop at any time, you say so and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

They slide out of their boxers and then there’s a moment of mutual staring. Jared’s delighted to see a pink flush creeping up Jensen’s chest. He pulls him in for another kiss.

“All right,” he says, trying to get everything just right, “Roll over. It’ll be easier the first time.”

“Well, it’s not _exactly_ the first time.”

Jared kisses the words away. “Yes it is.”

Jensen rolls over and Jared trails kisses down his back. When he gets to the hollow at the base of his spine, Jensen props himself up on one elbow and looks around warily.

“Jared?”

“Trust me?”

“Yeah.”

Jared carefully spreads Jensen’s cheeks apart and swipes his tongue over Jensen’s opening. Jensen gasps at the intimate contact. Jared teases over the entrance until Jensen is moaning and shifting his hips against the mattress. Then he finally pushes inside. Jensen yelps. “More,” he begs and Jared is more than happy to comply.

He licks in and around Jensen’s hole until Jensen is loose-limbed and nearly incoherent with pleasure. All his trademark control falls away under the onslaught of sensation. He moans and gasps and pushes back against Jared’s mouth and Jared is absolutely delighted. When he thinks Jensen is as relaxed as he’s going to get, he finally reaches for the lube.

Jensen hisses at the first touch of Jared’s slick finger against him.

“Still trust me, Jen?”

“Yeah, go on.”

Jared pushes his finger inside and starts to stretch Jensen out. He hasn’t found the spot he’s looking for and Jensen isn’t protesting, but he’s taking carefully controlled breaths. Jared rubs his back between the shoulder blades with his other hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, “You’re doing so good, baby. Just hold on and trust me.”

Jensen nods against the pillow.

When one finger starts to feel easy, Jared adds another. That’s harder and Jensen whimpers a little. He’s barely hard anymore. Jared reaches around and strokes Jensen’s cock while he stretches him open.

Adding a third finger takes longer, but they get there. And finally Jared finds that sweet spot. Jensen cries out and pushes back against him.

“So that’s what that feels like,” he mumbles.

Jared laughs. “Damn straight. So to speak.”

When three fingers are sliding inside easily and Jensen is rocking back against him, looking for friction, Jared figures they’re ready. He pulls his fingers out.

“You can still change your mind, Jen,” he says softly.

Jensen shakes his head. “No. I’m ready.”

Jared grabs the bottle of lube. He slides a condom on and slicks up his cock. He’s hard and aching, but this really isn’t about him. He lines up and enters Jensen slowly, sinking in a fraction of an inch at a time.

He can tell it hurts, but Jensen breathes deeply and tells Jared to keep going. Finally he’s all the way in. He stays there for a minute, letting Jensen get used to him.

From there it’s slow and sweet. Jared exerts every ounce of control he has to make this good for Jensen. If the sinful little moans and nonsense words are anything to go by, he’s not doing an awful job. Jensen comes first, and then Jared lets himself go, coming so hard his vision whites out. He pulls out carefully and grabs a handful of tissues for a haphazard cleanup. Then he gathers Jensen against him and they drift into post-coital sleep.

~*~

A few weeks later, once the relationship doesn’t feel as much like a soap bubble ready to burst in a light wind, Jensen decides it’s time to introduce Jared to his parents. Jared is not at all sure that’s a good idea.

“Don’t be stupid. They’ll love you,” Jensen assures him.

Chris nods. “It’s true.”

“Um, they’ll love the guy who’s sleeping with their son?”

Chris laughs as Jensen turns red. “You have no idea,” he says.

Jared remains convinced that this is a very bad idea, but he really can’t say no to anything Jensen asks him to do. Which is how he finds himself on the doorstep of a charming, suburban house, dressed for Sunday dinner.

A middle-aged woman with Jensen’s eyes and hair just starting to gray at the temples opens the door.

“Jensen!” she cries, throwing her arms around him.

“Hey, mom.”

She pulls back, holding him by the shoulders. “Let me get a good look at you. How are you doing. Are you eating?”

“Fine and yes.”

“And who is this fine young man?”

Jared freezes as she turns her attention on him.

“Mom, this is Jared Padalecki. My boyfriend.”

Mrs. Ackles makes a small “oh” sound and claps her hand over her mouth, tears coming to her eyes. “You darling boy,” she declares and gathers him into a hug. Jared hugs back awkwardly. “Welcome to the family.”

Jared has to work hard to keep his jaw from dropping. Never in a million years would he have expected this kind of reception from parents – any parents. Mr. Ackles is just as welcoming, if slightly less effusive.

Jensen’s mother and father treat him like their own, long lost child. It doesn’t make up for his own parents throwing him out, but it helps. He becomes a frequent visitor in the Ackles household. Sunday dinners, cookouts, nothing in particular. Between them and the band, Jared cobbles together a new family. This one he chose, because they love him. And they love each other.

It’s October and starting to be slightly less sweltering when Jared decides to risk bringing up the topic that’s been on his mind.

“So,” he says, right in the middle of a furious Madden battle.

“So?” Jensen answers.

“I was thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jensen teases, slanting him a quick smirk before looking back to the screen.

“Shut up! I’m trying to be serious here.”

“In the middle of playing Madden?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, what is it then?”

“I was thinking maybe we could, um, move in together. You know, if you wanted.”

“Huh,” Jensen says, going very still except for his fingers moving on the controller.

“Or we can just forget I said anything,” Jared says quickly. ‘

“Mmm,” Jensen says, still not looking at Jared, but he relaxes back against the couch and in a few minutes it’s almost like the weird moment didn’t happen.

Nearly a month later they’re in the frozen foods aisle of the grocery store. Jensen pushed Jared out the door when he discovered Jared had nothing but mustard and a couple of beers in the refrigerator. Jared is expounding the merits of Chunky Monkey when Jensen lays a hand on his shoulder and says, “Okay.”

Jared grins and grabs the ice cream. “I told you,” he says, “Bananas and chocolate. It’s an irresistible combination.”

Jensen shakes his head, looking strangely nervous for a conversation about ice cream. “No, I mean, _okay_.

“Okay, what?” Jared asks, completely mystified.

“Okay, I’ll move in with you,” Jensen says.

Jared just stares at him for a moment, feeling a smile spreading slowly across his face. Then he lets out a whoop and gathers Jensen up in his arms.

Jensen squirms against him. “Let go of me, you giant dork!” he protests, but he’s laughing and Jared just tightens his arms and shakes his head.

“Uh uh. Not ever.” He drops a kiss on the tip of Jensen’s nose and pulls back far enough to meet his eyes. “You’re sure?”

Jensen bites hip lip and nods shyly.

“Good,” Jared says and kisses his boyfriend in the middle of the grocery store.

~*~

Steve’s pocket starts buzzing in the middle of the five o’clock after work rush and he nearly causes a coffee disaster trying to answer his phone with one hand and keep foaming milk with the other.

“’Lo?” he answers, tucking the phone into the crook of his neck.

“Pack your shit and get over here!” Chris crows in his ear.

Steve’s sure that he’s missed something because he has no idea what Chris is talking about. “Um, what?” he asks intelligently, finishing off the cappuccino and sliding it across the counter.

“Jensen’s setting up a happy little love nest with Jared and you know what that means.”

Steve can practically hear his face splitting grin through the phone. His jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Chris says, “Only without the death and with way more sex. And maybe a puppy! Do you want to get a puppy?”

Steve laughs. “Dude, did Jared infect you with his ADHD or something? You sound like you’re on a sugar high.”

“Ass,” Chris shoots back, “Excuse me for being excited that my boyfriend is _finally_ moving in with me.” He pauses. “You are right? I mean, you still want to?”

“Idiot,” Steve answers affectionately, “Of course I do.”

“Yeah,” Chris says, “I knew that.”

“Is Saturday too soon?”

“Saturday’s perfect.”

~*~

The band has been playing more and more lately. Chris has been running himself ragged schmoozing and distributing demos and it seems to be paying off. They play regular gigs at a few places in Richardson and some of the other Dallas suburbs.

He bribes Jared with gummi worms to talk the Entertainment reporter at the _Gazette_ into coming to a show. The guy loves them and after that they finally get to play a couple of shows in the city. Then heaven smiles down and they get a good review in the _Dallas Morning News_. Chris manages to parlay their good fortune into a summer tour.

Steve is having kittens about leaving the shop alone for weeks at a stretch. Chris reminds him that Sophia is more than capable of keeping things running and frequently repeats the phrase “opportunity of a lifetime” until his boyfriend stops panicking.

~*~

Jared’s practically jumping out of his skin with anticipation. Jensen tells him on more than one occasion to “lay off the sugar, Sasquatch,” before kissing him still. And really, how can Jared be expected to change his behavior with that kind of positive reinforcement?

In order to give his nervous energy a direction, he helps Chris work out all the logistics of the tour. Travel arrangements, hotels, selling their firstborn for gas money, the usual.

“Uh, Chris, you do know we’re gay, right?”

“Exactly!”

By the end of April there’s nothing left to do but throw a party and invite everyone they’ve ever met. Chris wants to buy a grill for the occasion and he pouts comically when Steve reminds him that there’s no point in spending the money when they’re not going to be home to use it all summer. Jensen dissolves into giggles at the exchange and Jared can’t resist scooping him up in a bear hug.

They end up having the party at the Ackles’ house because they already have a grill, not to mention a really nice backyard. It’s the first Saturday in May and the weather is obligingly gorgeous. The heat hasn’t quite reached surface of the sun levels yet, and that counts as downright mild for Texas in May.

Jared surveys the chaos in the backyard with a deep feeling of contentment. Friends and relatives seem to have sprung from the ground in the crowd is any indication. He feels a brief twinge that none of them are his before reminding himself that they actually are. His family is here now and he never thought he’d be lucky enough to have such an amazing one.

He shakes his head, already bored with the introspection. There are burgers to be inhaled and friends to embarrass with his hyperactivity. Sophia took over the manly art of grilling after Chris nearly started a brushfire with his first attempt. He pouted, but she brandished a barbecue fork and forcibly shooed him away with Steve’s relieved assistance.

He bounces up to her and says, “Feed me!”

She glances up at him skeptically. “There’s not enough beef in the world.”

“Oh, come on! Just a couple of little, tiny, enormous burgers, please?” he says, pulling out the puppy dog face.

“You’ve had like six!”

“I’m a growing boy.”

“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes, but she hands him a plate and plunks a couple of patties on it anyway.

“And one for Jensen?”

“No way! You’ll just have to share.”

“Fine, I’ll starve then!” he exclaims, grinning mischievously as he carries his spoils away.

He looks around for Jensen and spots him brandishing a water pistol at Allie. She’s shrieking and laughing as she runs away. Jared puts the burgers down next to the condiments and grabs his boyfriend as they careen past him.

“Hey, no terrorizing the guests,” he teases.

Jensen pouts. “Aww, you’re no fun.”

“Got you a burger,” Jared says.

They eat in companionable silence, observing the festivities, until Jared realizes who he hasn’t seen in a while.

“Hey, where are Chris and Steve? We’re supposed to play in a little while.”

Jensen tenses slightly. “Umm, I dunno,” he answers, shrugging.

Jared is instantly suspicious. “Okay, what’s the secret?”

“Secret? What are you talking about?” Jensen says in a completely unconvincing attempt at innocence.

Jared was about to start the interrogation in earnest – tickling might even be necessary – when he was distracted by a high pitched squeal that dogs would probably recognize as his name.

He whirls around to see a tiny brunette standing on the patio, flanked by a very smug Chris and Steve.

“Sandy?” he cries in astonishment.

She just smiles big and bright and opens her arms. He launches himself at her, picks her up and spins her around. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

She gestures over his shoulder and he turns around to see Jensen grinning at him.

“You?”

Jensen shrugs, turning a bit pink. “You remember that morning you couldn’t find your cell phone?”

Jared’s eyes widen in realization. “Oh my god.” He grabs Jensen and pulls him into the hug without letting go of Sandy. “Thank you so much.”

He drags his best friend to a secluded corner and spends some time just catching up and letting it sink in that she’s really here. After a little while, though, he decides he’s ready to share her. Less than five minutes after being introduced, she’s swapping war stories with Allie and Sophia about gay men and being the women who love them.

The last of the guests finally trickle out sometime after midnight and Jared breathes in the quiet night air. Jensen comes back outside after saying goodnight to his parents and they decide to test the weight limit on the Ackles’ patio furniture by curling up together on the chaise lounge.

“Pretty awesome party,” Jared says, carding his fingers absently through Jensen’s hair.

Jensen sighs and butts his head up into the touch like a cat. “Yeah, my parents really know how to throw a rager.”

“God, how did I ever get lucky enough to find you?” Jared asks, recognizing the randomness of the topic jump and not really caring.

Jensen twists his head around to look at Jared. “You?” he replies, “ _I’m_ the lucky one.”

Jared pulls him in closer. “Maybe we’re both lucky.”

“I didn’t think things ever worked out like this except in romance novels.”

Jared grins. “More like fairytales.”

“So what happens now?” Jensen asks, half teasingly.

“Don’t you know?” Jared answers, “We live happily ever after.”


	5. Epilogue

_Many years later, the prince who was destined to break the spell finally arrived. He had been exiled from his own kingdom and came seeking refuge. He saw immediately that the golden prince was trapped inside his self-made wall of thorns. He caught a glimpse of the real prince asleep inside and fell in love._

_He determined that he must find a way past the wall of thorns or die trying. At first the thorns cut him and it seemed impossible to get through._

_The golden prince’s loyal knight had been faithfully standing guard outside the wall for all the years that the prince had been asleep. He saw what the foreign prince was doing and tried to stop him._

_At first it seemed that a duel would be fought, for the knight would stop at nothing to protect his lord and the foreign prince refused to yield. At the last moment, the knight realized that the foreign prince might be the one he had been watching for who would break the curse._

_He told him that he would never get through the wall of thorns with force. The knight’s vows of loyalty kept him from saying anything more that might help the prince in solving the riddle, but he watched hopefully as the prince began his task._

_The foreign prince began to care for the brambles, pruning and tending them carefully. Little by little, the hard, sharp limbs turns to flowers and opened a path. Inside lay the golden prince. The foreign prince had never seen anyone as beautiful._

_Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and kissed the sleeping prince’s lips. At that moment, the spell was broken and the prince opened his eyes. “I dreamed that you would come,” he told the foreign prince, “I’ve been waiting a long time.”_

_Soon after that the two princes were married and lived happily to the end of their days._

**The End**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [on my livejournal](http://sophie-448.livejournal.com/48001.html). 
> 
> View the original art by [causette](http://causette.livejournal.com) at the link above and [here](http://sophie-448.livejournal.com/46517.html).
> 
> The second link includes a fanmix. I regret to say that all the download links are broken, and I no longer have all the songs I included. However! I made y'all [a youtube playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaNxPaSlerpvhUQL6i1_rBGNGTNlGrcBz) just in case you were interested.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] To Wake a Captive Dreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501634) by [momopods (momotastic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/momotastic/pseuds/momopods)




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